


a drop of life

by theeternalblue



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, F/M, Horror, M/M, Romance, Varchie!Centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-17 08:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theeternalblue/pseuds/theeternalblue
Summary: Archie is not living his best life in New York City. Life itself has been harder than he could've thought.His last chance is a job he never expected to have, in a place that shouldn't exist. The Lodges seem a mystery, and Veronica is the princess of a tale with no happy endings.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Reggie Mantle, Munroe Moore/Toni Topaz
Comments: 41
Kudos: 62
Collections: Tricks and Treats of Riverdale





	1. Not How, But Why

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!!!
> 
> This is me experimenting with a new kind of alternative universe.
> 
> How did this start? Well, as a mix of Vampironica and Hotel Transylvania that turned into something akin to Interview With The Vampire. Also, thank to my Golden Girls for supporting me with this crazy idea, and particularly to Em for whom I want to dedicate it as a little birthday gift (even if we're still a day away)

_ “I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm _

_ And the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold _

_ My blood is a flood of rubies, precious stones _

_ It keeps my veins hot, the fires find a home in me _

_ I move through town, I'm quiet like a fire” _

“Apparently, I don’t have the required skills to work in a kitchen,” Archie says between gasps as he keeps training with his friend, Munroe. One punch after the other in rapid succession, landing on the punch mitts with ease. His red hair is damp with sweat and sticking in every direction. Boxing is draining, but it’s the only thing that helps him control his anger. A fury that seems to keep growing with each passing day, ever since his father died, ever since he decided to follow his passion for music in New York and failed. How much more misfortune can he withstand?

“What do you plan to do now?” Munroe asks, and in return he gets a particularly hard punch against his left hand. He watches as Archie pants, his face tight with frustration as his mouth presses in a tight line.

“I don’t know. Find a new job, that’s for sure.” He blows a breath as he pulls the straps of the gloves to take them off. “Or I’m getting kicked out of my fucking apartment by the end of the week.”

“You know I’d offer a place to stay, but Toni is six-months and we don’t really have much to offer.”

Archie’s features soften at his friend’s attempt to help. Neither of them have much, but they do what they can for each other. Placing a hand over Munroe’s shoulder, Archie tells him, “I know. The baby is the first priority. I’ll manage. I always do.”

But at what cost? Showering at the gym is probably the most luxurious moment he gets, because there’s hot water. Meanwhile in his apartment, the bills pile up, as his debt to the landlord. And until a day ago, most of the food he ate was what he managed to get from the restaurant where he worked. If he has to take his guitar to a pawn shop, that will be the last thing that’ll bury his dreams.

After toweling his hair, thanking Munroe for the chance of training and for the good conversation, and sending his greetings to Toni, Archie walks out of the gym hoping he’ll manage to sneak into his place. He doesn’t want to fight with Mr. Dankowski or be told when he has to leave – it’s been more than two weeks since he promised he would pay.

As he stands before a food cart, waiting for a pizza slice, Archie listens to his phone beeping. He checks it to see it’s an incoming text from Betty, his childhood best friend. The once bright girl with golden locks and beautiful smile is now married, with a little toddler she’s raising in Riverdale with a man Archie never thought could make Betty Cooper happy. Reggie Mantle still holds a grudge against him for beating him for not only the captaincy of the football team, but also for becoming prom king – and he only accepts Archie because Reggie has been slowly realizing all those happy moments in high school mean very little for life now.

_ Found this online. Please check it. You know you can always count on me if you need money. _

The pizza is cheap, but it doesn’t even taste like food after seeing he’s stepped so low in life that his best friend is offering him to lend him money – even when she knows there’s little chance he’ll be able to pay it back.

There’s a link attached to the message. It’s a concise job posting for a driver in Kings Point, which even if not far from Queens where he currently resides, it’d take him probably an hour and a half to get there by bus. That’s the only disadvantage he can find in the five lines. They offer more than twice the money he made at the restaurant, housing, and two free days a week. That’s in exchange for working some unusual hours from eleven at night until six in the morning, but he doesn’t question rich people's whims.

It’s a cloudy day in New York. The city looks gloomy in gray shades, with a few drops of rain, thin and light, falling onto his blue jacket. This is the only suit he has left. Most of them were sold for little money when he had to choose between eating or owning fancy clothes he’d probably never get to use again. If he doesn’t make it today, he’ll have to pack the little he has left and go back to Riverdale, to an old empty house filled with his dad’s memories, and admit he has failed to achieve anything in life. At least he has a place to go back to, but sometimes he wants to follow his mother's advice and sell the family home in Elm Street just to have some cash. But, how could he? Fred Andrews put so much effort and love in it. His soul is part of it, and he always pictured himself going back to it when he was older.

Archie steps out of the bus as it nears Wildwood Drive. The driver shoots him a look which holds a bit of pity, and he gets why. He doesn’t fit in. This place with houses you can’t really see from outside, gated communities, and yacht clubs is not where he belongs. So as Archie walks for the next few minutes, he starts losing a bit more of hope – something not even three bus rides and an hour-and-a-half trip had managed to do.

By the time he finally reaches the house, he needs to do a double-take to make sure he’s got the right number. This is not a house. It’s a mansion. It must be by the eight-foot-tall iron gate and the dense shrubs that keep the property hidden from prying eyes.

He presses the button near the gate, and soon a brittle but soothing voice answers.

“Good afternoon, young man.” It’s a soft-spoken old man, the one answering, one who seems agreeable.

Archie lifts his head to catch a glimpse of the camera pointing his way.

“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Archie Andrews. I’m here for an interview?”

“Ah!” The old man exclaims, slightly excited to see him arriving on time. “Please, come in, Mr. Andrews. You need to follow the path, and on the first fork, turn left. You’ll see the manor in no time after that.”

The iron gates open with a minor squeaking sound. The bronze on the tips shines even under the feeble sunlight.

As the gravel crunches under the soles of his shoes, Archie follows the man's instructions. It takes him longer than expected to find what can only be described as a castle, with a tall tower dominating one side. The ocean can be heard even where he stands, as the wind hits a little harder.

“Welcome, Mr. Andrews,” an old balding man with gray hair greets. He’s dressed in an impeccable yet old-fashioned green tweed suit. “My name is Hubert Smithers, but you may call me Smithers. It’s what everyone does,” he offers, smiling as he outstretches a hand to shake Archie’s in a firm movement.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Smithers.”

The man chuckles. “Just Smithers, please. Now, if you follow me, we’ll begin your interview immediately.”

Archie looks up, studying the house and its rich and old-fashioned architecture. His father would’ve marveled with the details, sharing some comments with him like each time they restored a building in Riverdale.

“Mr. Andrews?” Smithers is a few steps away, closer to the house.

“Of course. Sorry.” Archie follows him towards the steps that lead to a heavy-looking dark wooden door.

As soon as he crosses the door, he faces a wide staircase in the foyer that leads to the second floor. Everything is rich and lustrous, like it belongs to a family that has always known opulence. He definitely doesn’t belong here, feeling small under those high ceilings.

Smithers keeps walking, prompting him to follow towards a room on the right side. This is not a living room or family room – Smithers calls it a  _ sitting room _ . And then they move through a side door to end up in a big luminous kitchen. It’s strange but this is the only room he’s seen with big open windows that look towards a beautiful garden and a spacious sunroom. The rest of what he saw seemed dark, with heavy curtains, and untouched like a museum would look like.

“Please, take a seat,” Smithers says, as he moves towards the kitchen island. “May I offer you some tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” he answers as he sits at the table near the sunroom. Drumming his fingers against the surface, he then settles in linking his hands together to soothe his nerves. “My apologies, Smithers, but I thought Mr. Lodge would be interviewing me.”

Hiram Lodge is the name Archie found in the footer of the email that set a date for an interview after sending his short resume. It was formal and impersonal, as well as if a robot had produced it. And Archie expected a cold man, a hard interview, and certainly not this kind tea-drinking butler with hopeful eyes.

“I’m in charge of the affairs of Lodge Manor, Mr. Andrews.” The old man places a cup of steaming coffee before Archie, as he takes a seat across the young man. “Master Hiram trusts my decision completely, and it’s the way it has been for decades. Now, should we begin?” Smithers stirs his tea with a small silver spoon after adding a cube of sugar.

The questions begin with some of his work experience, which he confesses isn’t much regarding being a chauffeur, but that he’s a hard worker and used to being responsible. Smithers’ affable nature makes him spill a little more than intended, also sharing about his bad luck over the last couple of years since he moved to New York, and how he spent his summers working for his father, in construction. It’s not intended to be a sob story, but the man before him compels him to share about his life.

For some reason, he also shares about his hobby of boxing, and Smithers chuckles. The butler says he tried it on his time, during his stint in the army.

Archie munches on a fluffy scone with raspberry jam as Smithers lists the benefits he’ll get if he’s chosen for the job.

“Given the schedules, this job offer will come with a room and private bathroom for yourself, as well as food. Two days off a week, and paid holidays after six months.” Smithers offers Archie a napkin when a drop of raspberry jam seems to slip through his fingers. “Of course, part of your responsibilities not only include taking Master Hiram from one place to another – mostly from here to his Manhattan office and back – but also taking care of the cars and playing a part on his security detail.” Smithers frowns with worry as he gazes at his cup of tea, but then smiles as he looks at Archie. “Your boxing background helps you in that department, Mr. Andrews.”

“Please, call me Archie.”

“Archie,” Smithers repeats, smiling. “Do you have any questions for me?”

He desperately wants to ask when he can start, if he’s going to be hired because he needs it. Instead, he keeps quiet and smiles. “No, sir. I appreciate your time and the opportunity.”

“You’re a very polite young man, and that’s refreshing.” Smithers stands up, and Archie follows him. “I’ll call you as soon as I run my decision by Master Hiram.”

Archie holds back a sigh. Those phrases always sound promising, but the phone never rings. He’s heard it before, but he’ll never lose an opportunity. He still has hope, as dumb as it seems.

The older man leads him back to the front door, sharing details about the history of Kings Point and  _ The Great Gatsby _ . He barely remembers reading the book in high school, never too fond of literature, so he only hums in reply.

They walk into the foyer, as Smithers finishes something about the Merchant Marine Academy when a clear yet velvety voice interrupts them.

“Smithers?”

A woman stands in the landing of the mahogany stairs, right where it divides in two towards the west and east wing of the manor. She’s a beauty with onyx hair in soft waves like the ocean at midnight, pale olive skin, and plum lips. In a long flowy black dress, she commands the room and hypnotizes him once her dark eyes meet Archie’s. Her lips curve in an invisible smile as she studies him. He cannot look away, even if he tries.

“Miss Veronica, I’ll be right with you.” Smithers places a hand over Archie’s shoulder, and it’s the only way to break the spell on him, and steer him towards the front door. “Archie, it was a pleasure to meet you, and I hope to call you with favorable news quite soon.”

Archie is looking over Smithers’ shoulder, at the mysterious Miss Veronica who is now leaning against the railing while watching him. “I hope so as well.”

All the way back to Queens, in those three buses, after that hour-and-a-half, he cannot stop thinking about that young woman, surely the princess who owns that castle. He had never felt such a powerful pull towards someone, such a  _ magical _ connection that seemed to root him to the ground because she wished so.

He sighs, closing his eyes and all he can do is see hers.

  
  


The blue jacket is now wrinkled after sitting on the bus, and dozing off for a few minutes as he makes it to Queens. The drizzle falling onto the city feels dense and unpleasant while he fishes for his keys in the pockets of his pants. His shoes clack against the stairs as he climbs up to his apartment, but his heart drops to his feet when he catches sight of Mr. Dankowski changing the locks of his door.

“No,” Archie mutters first, to then exclaim a little louder. The chubby old man lifts his light blue eyes, and sighs mournfully. “Mr. Dankowski–”

“Look, kid, this isn’t what I wanted, but it’s been three months. I cannot let you stay here unless you pay, and I’m sorry.” He stands up with some difficulty as his knees straighten. The new lock shines brighter than any other in the hall. “You’re a good man–”

“Yeah, look where that has gotten me,” Archie grumbles under his breath, running his hand through his damp hair.

Mr. Dankowski’s eyebrows knit together in concern. He doesn’t look happy, but he cannot offer comfort either. The man places a heavy hand on Archie’s shoulder, trying to sympathize with him. “I’ll give you time to grab your things, and I can save a few for a couple of days, until you can pick them up.” Archie watches him waddle his way to the elevator and disappear behind the metal doors.

He feels angry, mostly at himself, but also powerless. More than anything, he feels hopeless for the first time in his life. He’d like to run his fist through the wall and see things crumble down around him, because that’s how the world seems right now. But like his dad taught him, like he would do, Archie holds his temper in check and goes to pack the little he has left.

A small duffel bag is all he has with him when he shows up at the door of Munroe’s apartment, looking sheepish. A petite, dark-skinned woman with pink hair opens the door, giving him a warm and comforting smile. Her protruding belly makes her look even smaller if possible.

“I’m sorry, Toni,” Archie apologizes before even saying hello.

“Nonsense, Red.” Toni lets him in, and then wraps him in a hug, making him chuckle as her baby bump gets between them. She might not be a mom yet, but she’s certainly filled with a motherly nature. “You’re family, and we’ll always find room for family. Even if it’s just the couch.”

“The couch is more than fine.”

“There’s cold pizza we can reheat, if you don’t mind,” Munroe offers as he enters the main room. He gives his friend a one-arm hug, slapping his back in an effort to show strength and comfort.

“Besides, we could use help to set the baby’s crib up. Right, Puppy?” Toni quips, teasing her boyfriend as she moves to wrap an arm around Munroe’s waist. “As strong as he looks, he’s not so skilled with smaller details.”

Munroe pulls his girlfriend a little tighter against his side and bows his head to press a kiss to her lips. “Guess that’s not the reason you chose me in the first place.”

Toni smirks. “That certainly wasn’t the reason why I liked you when I first met you.”

They chuckle, Archie feeling a bit uncomfortable, but soon Munroe leads him to the small kitchen to reheat the pizza while Toni excuses herself to go rest her swollen feet.

Being with his friends feels comforting, but asking for their help to have a place to spend the night, fully aware that he doesn’t have a way to repay them makes him feel miserable. Still, he tries to keep a good humor, and share about his bizarre interview with the  _ butler of a manor _ , yet keeping the sight of  _ Miss Veronica _ to himself.

Three days go by and he doesn’t get an answer from Smithers, so he assumes the job isn’t his. He puts the crib together, helps Toni around the house and Munroe at the gym, because every bite he takes of the food his friends offer tastes like failure. His stomach turns with the thought of taking advantage of his friends, of taking their food and seizing their couch, not allowing them to live their lives and enjoy the journey of the baby on the way.

Nights are harder when his mind is all to himself, when he can hear street noises and yet his head is louder with all his worries. Archie doesn’t know how he falls asleep, but at some point the tiredness wins and he’s able to sleep. Or so he thinks.

He feels something cold and soft tracing the shape of his jaw, like a whisper. And there’s the tickle of a soft gush of air against his cheek. He stirs before he’s able to open his eyes in what he thinks should be darkness, and instead is a pale face with red lips stretched into a gentle yet mischievous smile. The room is filled with a feeble silver light, like moonlight. Her hair falls in shiny dark waves past her shoulders, and her eyes are bright like two stars in the middle of the night sky.

“Shh,” she shushes, pressing her index finger to his lips. And he’d move, he’d speak, if it weren’t because he feels he doesn’t own his body anymore. “Don’t be afraid,” she murmurs in a honey sweet voice. “Archie.” His heart stutters when she utters his name.

_ Miss Veronica _ , he thinks as his eyes widen to take more of the image before him. She almost giggles with joy as she drags the finger from his lips back to his jawline and to toy with his ear. He can feel his cheeks and face turning red, his ears burning. She closes her eyes to take a sharp intake of air.

She gets closer to him, her face barely an inch away from his, the sheer fabric of her royal blue dress brushes his arm but he still lays on the couch without moving. Pressing her ear to his naked chest, she slides her hands up his arms, his heart accelerating which seems to make her shudder in pleasure as her nails dig on his biceps.

“You’re not scared.” She pushes off him, just enough so she can look at him in the eye, pleased to see his reaction. “Beautiful,” she offers while her hands glide over his shoulders and chest. She leans forward, the bright pink tongue peeks out of her mouth and teasingly licks his bottom lip. “Sweet,” she quips, her hands carding through his hair. “Alive.”

It’s only then when he feels his muscles reacting to his will, and moves his hands to grab her by the waist. Veronica seems surprised, the black orbs of her eyes slightly frightened as they meet his.

“How?” he utters, inhaling the smell of cool fresh rain she seems to exude.

“Not how, but why,” she replies, breath tickling his lips.

If this is a dream, then it won’t matter if he does as he wants.

Archie lifts his head, his hands pulling her tighter against him, and his lips find hers. He kisses her, and she kisses him for a brief second until he feels the air being sucked out of his lungs as she whispers, “Soon.”

It’s like getting his head out of the water after a few long minutes when Archie sits up inhaling a mouthful of cold air, heart beating wildly but finding himself alone in the darkness. No trace of a woman. Not even the silver light of the moon.

  
  


It's a Tuesday night, and he’s walking down the street on his way to his old apartment to pick up the last thread that kept him sane. Mr. Dankowski kept his guitar and promised to give it back. What his old landlord doesn’t know, and the reason why his hands tremble, is that as soon as Archie gets his guitar he’s going to pawn it to get some cash. His eyes water at the thought of his father’s initials engraved on the back of the neck of his inherited guitar.

The old stickers on the guitar case are peeling off, some are from when his father was a young college student and some are the ones Archie added when he was in high school. This is not only about his love for music. This is proof of his life.

When he leaves the building, the night is starting to fall upon New York. The air is cold as he breathes in, deciding where to go next. But before he can decide, his phone starts to vibrate. The number isn’t only unknown but private, so he hesitates and lets it go to voicemail as he climbs down the steps of the building entry. When he reaches the last step, his phone vibrates again.

“Hello?” Archie sighs, ready to keep his way to a pawn shop.

“Mr. Andrews,” a gentle voice with an edge of nervousness answers. It’s Smithers, one voice he thought he’d never listen to again. “I hope you’re still free and available.”

Painfully so. “Yes, sir. I’m…  _ available _ .”

“Good, good,” Smithers replies with a sigh of relief. “Regretfully, there won’t be time to give you a proper introduction to your job and the manor rules since Master Hiram requires you to present immediately to his office to pick him up and bring him home.”

“Pardon?”

“An emergency, Archie. We had a problem with our previous choice. You must arrive at the address I’ll send as fast as you can, and the car will be there. Let me know when you get there, so I can inform Master Hiram.” The old butler speaks in a hurried voice but his orders are clear.

“Of course, Smithers.”

Archie studies his surroundings, deciding the best way to travel to Manhattan. Once the call is disconnected, he receives the address and gets in motion. It seems like the stars align in his favor for the first time in a long time, because he manages to make it to the Lodge building in record time. The guard at the reception desk looks tough and barely says a word before asking for an ID, calling someone and handing him the keys of a shiny black Rolls Royce Phantom.

His guitar sits on the passenger seat, clashing against the luxury car. A quick text is sent to Munroe about getting a job and not going back home tonight.

“Archibald Andrews,” a deep voice calls for Archie, forcing him to straighten his posture as he stands by the car. The man uttering those words is not tall, but he looks menacing in an expensive suit. He approaches the car with eerie calmness as a smug smile grows on his face. “Smithers warned me. He chose you, and I decided not to listen to him.” He chuckles, but it doesn’t help to ease the tension. “Hiram Lodge,” says the man who looks like he could own the world if he wished so, like he’s used to be followed, no questions asked. He outstretches his hand and Archie shakes it in a cold and firm motion, before he’s expected to open the door for the millionaire.

“Sir,” Archie says as he watches the man disappear behind tinted windows.

This truly is  _ Master Hiram _ , he thinks as he rounds the car and slips behind the wheel.

The hour-long trip to Kings Point, to Lodge Manor, is spent in silence until Hiram Lodge decides to fill the car with Schubert’s music. And Archie wonders if this looks as bizarre as it feels, because two hours ago he was on the verge of losing the last piece of his sanity, and now he’s driving a car that could very well cost more than his old house in Riverdale.

  
  


Lodge Manor is a strange building, one that has spacious and luminous rooms for its staff. Archie never thought his bedroom could look over the luscious garden, or that the room itself could be bigger than his old apartment.

His welcome to the house was given by Smithers, who waited for him with warm food and a clean bedroom. It certainly surprised him to see Master Hiram wouldn’t be served dinner, but maybe the businessman had dined at a fancy restaurant in Manhattan. 

This morning he meets Andre, Miss Veronica’s chauffeur, who arrives just as Archie enters the kitchen. The laconic man is a few years older than Archie and a couple of inches taller. He doesn’t greet Archie with much enthusiasm, and quickly excuses himself to rest since apparently Miss Veronica is a socialite who thrives in New York’s nightlife.

“Miss Veronica is a child of the night,” Smithers comments while drinking his tea, accompanying Archie during breakfast, but soon shakes his head. “Now hurry, Archie. Master Hiram will require you to take him to his office tonight. You should use the free time to pick up your things and bring them with you. Later today, I’ll send for your uniform.” He frowns. “That blue suit won’t do. Master Hiram demands for his drivers to wear black. But don’t worry, I’ll have it ready for tonight.”

Yet, his clothes are not much of his concern. “Smithers, what happened to the other guy you chose? Why was it an emergency?”

There’s a pause of hesitation, and the small and kind smile on Smithers’ face vanishes. “That’s not important. What matters is that I knew you wouldn’t fail us.” He stands up, taking his cup with him to the sink. “It’s time to get one of the cars. You shouldn’t be late.” Smithers motions for Archie to follow him. “Come on, I’ll show you the garage with Master Hiram’s collection.” 

The garage is definitely not what Archie would have imagined. The Rolls Royce had its place as the daily car, but here in the large collection of classic cars, it looks like nothing special. There aren’t only cars, but also a couple of motorcycles. It’s a beautiful sight that must cost too much money to count.

“You’re allowed to use the Mustang.” Smithers points at a black ‘65 Ford Mustang that’s probably the cheapest car in the lot, but not less of a beauty. He pats the hood of an old green Mini Cooper affectionately. “These are very loyal cars.”

This is the way things start for him, this new job that is oddly quiet and calm, driving to and from Manhattan and Kings Point. It saddens him to have less time for his friends, but he’s glad not to depend on them. Music fills his afternoons after spending the mornings sleeping. It’s a strange change of his rhythm, leaving at night and returning in the wee hours of the morning. The Lodge Empire is to grow in the darkness.

His first day free is spent at the gym with Munroe, having lunch with him and Toni and showing them the car he gets to use. It’s a complete change from the days Archie spent not knowing how he’ll make it to the next day.

It might be a crazy routine, but it works. His friends are happy for him, and Betty is particularly relieved not to see him struggle.

He’s wide awake at two in the morning when he makes it back to Lodge Manor after a free day, studying the picture of his childhood friend with her son in her lap, both smiling happily at the camera. Nate was born just before Archie left Riverdale, and ever since the news of Betty’s pregnancy, Reggie was completely into his role as father – it is the one thing Archie has no doubt Reggie wants to excel at, ever since he got Nate a tiny Riverdale Bulldogs shirt and secured each corner of their house.

It’s good not to feel like a burden in Betty’s mind, that she can focus on her family and be happy. And even better is that Reggie sees it that way, because he’s the one sending him the pictures and wishing him good luck. Maybe they can be on their way to rebuild their old friendship.

A knock on the door surprises him, but since Archie has apparently lost his need for sleep during the night, he opens it.

Smithers seems worried, but smiles at him. “You’re here. Good, good. I need a favor.”

“A favor?” Archie wonders, frowning at the butler.

“I’m quite aware it is your free day, but I need you to go to Manhattan and do so as quietly as possible.” Even the old man’s voice is softer than usual, as if he’s sharing not only a secret but wrongdoing. “Andre hasn’t returned yet, and I cannot leave Master Hiram unattended this late at night.” He sighs, slightly shaking his head. “Against her father’s wishes, Miss Veronica asked me to take her to her nightclub. Now I need you to bring her back.”

Trying to disguise his surprise, and keeping a straight face, Archie only nods.

He’s not about to disclose his strange and steamy dream or his wish to see Veronica while ambling around the house. As an employee, he knows better than to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t paid attention to his boss’ family. Veronica is an only child, and just like her father works at night in her own club, one with the most exclusive clientele in New York City.

Taking the Mustang, Archie leaves Lodge Manor in search of the princess of this empire.

  
  


_ La Bonne Nuit _ looks sleek and glamorous from the outside, reminiscent of a spot for 50’s Hollywood stars. At the same time, it seems like the entry into another world.

Archie parks the car around the corner, and just like Smithers asked, he goes in search of Veronica Lodge. The faithful butler warned him that she wouldn’t just leave or be waiting for him, because she hadn’t called for a ride back home – Archie is supposed to take her before Hiram finds out she left without permission.

That last bit makes him wonder why a woman who has her own business still lives under her father’s rules, but who is he to question it?

Two burly men stand outside the club, and the only way to walk past them is to show them a red card with a small black heart in the corner – just like Smithers instructed. And that small card seems to work magic, because neither of the men ask any questions, just letting him into what can only be called the belly of New York City.

The intense bass of the music seems to make Archie’s heart beat in a new rhythm, reverberating against his ribs. It feels several degrees hotter and humid, as he starts to see people dancing and drinking under the hue of a reddish light.

The combined voices of people talking and laughing turns into a loud whisper that makes him feel lost in the crowd. He bumps into someone that turns out to be two men and a woman getting handsy and kissing each other. Archie apologizes, even if the trio doesn’t look upset as they blatantly check him out.

A shrill laugh startles him at his right when he walks past the bar. A petite woman sat on the lap of man throws her head back in laughter before downing a shot of a dark and dense liquid followed by another bright green under the pale bluish glow of the bar lights. The man with curly hair buries his face in the crook of the woman’s neck as she drinks.

Suddenly, he feels a spark of electricity at the base of his back that climbs up his spine as a cold drop of water fighting against gravity. Archie looks up to see Veronica in a silver dress, intensely looking at him from the balcony. He would’ve guessed she’d be angry, but she seems amused as she uses one finger to beckon him.

Another pair of guards allow him to climb the stairs without much trouble. The heat feels more suffocating up here, but the noise becomes a muffled vibration.

“You can go back and tell Smithers I don’t need a babysitter,” is the first thing she tells him, and Archie cannot reply because he is sincerely dumbstruck by the image his eyes are drinking. The sequins of her short dress with long sleeves shine and call for attention. His attention. “Go. Now. Same way as you came.”

It is when she turns around to leave him there, that Archie makes a mistake. He reaches out and grabs her wrist, wrapping his fingers around her gently, but pulling her to a stop nonetheless. When she whips her head around, her dark wavy hair exudes that same perfume of fresh rain and wildflowers he remembers so vividly from his dream.

“I don’t want trouble, Miss Veronica,” he utters pathetically, letting her go as soon as he realizes she is still looking at his hand touching her. “I’m sorry.”

Her dark eyes study his face for a second. “A little too late for that, Archie.”

“Your father–” he attempts to explain, but she ignores him and walks away towards a side area where he can see small warm lights with a few people sitting on large couches.

“My father has ruled over my life forever. And forever is a long time when you are me,” she spits over her shoulder to make sure he’s following her.

Archie is hot on her heels, not willing to lose her from his sight.

He doesn’t know what to expect from her, what she wants to do, but he’s about to open his mouth to beg for her to just leave with him when she leans over a couple on a leather couch in the far corner of the balcony. A strong dark-skinned man has a redhead woman in a red skin-tight dress whispering sweet nothings in his ear. The shaved head of the guy is thrown back, eyes closed, as the small alabaster hand of the woman roams his chest. Veronica uses her hands to caress both of the couple’s faces.

“As much fun as this was, Cher, I must depart.” Veronica kisses the woman’s cheek, and Archie feels the hatred of the redheaded woman his way when she sneers at him, knowing this stranger is the reason Veronica is leaving. “Thank you for your gift. Enjoy him.”

Archie believes at the time there’s a drop of something trickling down the corner of  _ Cher’s _ mouth, but doesn’t pay attention to it. He completely ignores the bite marks at each side of the man’s neck as well.

Veronica picks up a black clutch and turns around to walk right past Archie, but on her way, she grabs his hand to lead him to the stairs where a pale man with slicked hair and light eyes waits for them.

“Trouble?” the guy asks, at which Veronica smiles.

“No more than usual, Kev.” She sighs, tightening the hold on Archie’s hand but not looking at him. “I trust you can take care of everything while I’m gone.”

“As always.”

As they continue their path, Archie can feel many gazes on him, following them and studying his moves. It won’t be the first or last time he feels like prey.

When they approach the door, Archie inhales the relief of the cold outside air. A chilly respite that lightens his worries until he feels his right hand being released.

“Where’s the car?”

He leads her around the corner, and is surprised to hear her chuckling.

“Of course Smithers gave you the Mustang.”

Archie frowns. “You don’t like it?” He sees her strutting her way to the passenger door, gliding a hand over the shiny black roof with something akin to longing in her eyes.

“I love it. It was mine back in the day,” Veronica shares, opening the door. “An all-american car for the all-american boy,” she finishes before sliding into the car.

In the red leather seat, Veronica Lodge seems like almost all legs. Archie makes his best effort not to steal glances at her, the shape of her lips or the decollete dress that exposes curves he’s sure he shouldn’t be looking at. And when she crosses her legs, the skirt of her dress rides up and his knuckles on the steering wheel turn whiter.

“Tell me, Mr. Andrews,” Veronica says in a sultry voice as she turns on the radio. Patti Smith’s  _ Because the Night _ filters through the speakers and the tall buildings begin to be scarce as they drive to Kings Point. “Have you always been such a good boy and done what you’re told?”

“I only want to keep my job.”

“It was your free day, you could’ve said no,” she answers quickly when she hears his clipped tone.

“I’m the new guy.” Archie glances at her, meeting her eyes. “But if you want me, I’ll say no next time.” His eyes return to the road ahead of them. “I won’t go near you if you don’t want me to.”

He can feel the weight of her gaze on him, but she stays in silence the rest of the way.

As they approach the house, Veronica instructs him to park the car in the garage instead of the front door, and that they can sneak in through the sunroom and into the kitchen. The sliding door of the sunroom glides effortlessly. Veronica steps in so lightly, no one would be able to hear her steps and under the pale light of the moon and stars, she looks like a child doing mischief.

Archie follows her closely, his heart accelerating with each breath as they walk across the room and towards the kitchen. Everything happens so fast, he might have not even blinked once when he feels her tugging his hand and pushing him against the kitchen island as they search for cover.

Veronica shushes him with a finger against his lips, and then they listen to the steps approaching them. Looking into her dark eyes, feeling her soft skin against his lips, it’s just like his dream, but this time they might get caught by the person opening the refrigerator. The white light makes Veronica’s red lips look brighter and her hair lustrous black.

She presses his back harder against the side of the kitchen island as the lights disappear and the steps they heard walk away until they become a faraway wingbeat. But their eyes keep locked in each other in the darkness.

Archie would like to say something, would like to regain composure and remember this is his last chance. He shouldn’t be messing around with his boss’ daughter. He shouldn’t let her straddle his legs on the kitchen floor, and he definitely shouldn’t put his hands on her waist. But he does all that and more.

His heart races when she leans forward and her breath tickles his lips. “What if I want you near me?” Her hand curls around his shoulder, the other goes to his hair to card through it softly. “What would you do, Archie?”

“Miss Veronica,” his voice trembles, and she chuckles lowly, her red lips against his cheek.

“No.”

“Veronica,” Archie tries again, feeling in a daze.

“Better, but not quite,” she teases as her lips pucker up around the lobe of his ear, sucking softly.

There’s a buzz in his ears, as if he could hear his own blood pumping through his veins. And his left hand travels up her back to take the back of her head and lead her mouth to crash against his. It’s urgent and wild, and their teeth clash as her lipstick gets smeared on his face. She tastes like herbs and alcohol, like he could drink her and get intoxicated until he loses his mind.

Veronica pulls him to her, sitting back on his legs as his right hand caresses his thigh and backside when her dress rides up.

His lungs burn, but he doesn’t stop kissing her as his lips follow the line of her neck and her sharp nails dig on his forearms.

The silver light of the moon slips through the sunroom and the floor-to-ceiling windows of the kitchen. Archie pulls back to meet Veronica’s mouth again, but she bows her head so her dark tresses hide her face.

“Veronica,” he whispers, reaching to tuck her hair back, but she recoils. His first thought is that he did something wrong, but he feels her soft hands cradling his face.

Archie watches her sitting back, and then slowly lifting her head to face him. The curious frown he was sporting is replaced by wonder as he sees her eyes painted completely black and two fangs peeking out of her parted mouth. He wants to come up with a quick explanation, but none of his ideas make sense at the moment.

“How?” he babbles.

“Not how, but why.”


	2. In the darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampironica is back! Sorry for the long wait.

_ “It makes me feel nervous _

_ You have that look in your eye _

_ Oh, what takes over? _

_ What is it that holds you tight?” _

The steps of the service staircase creak under his weight as he makes his way to the kitchen. As usual, there’s a morning fog covering Kings Point, but it’ll clear out at some point around noon. He’s learned these details, the quirks of this secluded place where most people hide behind high iron fences and thick walls.

It’s been a month since the night he saw Veronica scurrying away from him at an impossibly fast speed. Her dark eyes, full black orbs like night skies, just disappeared before him. And since, she hasn’t let herself be seen. At least not by him, because Andre keeps driving her to Manhattan every night.

In the garden, Archie can listen to a few birds and the wind rustling the leaves of trees, he can smell the salt in the air while strumming his guitar. It’s soothing but it makes him long for something he can’t quite pinpoint. Can anyone feel longing for something they don’t know? Sometimes he thinks it’s the life he used to have, with his father back in Riverdale where everything is familiar and simple. Yet, other times it feels like there’s something unknown he needs to figure out.

“Archie?” Smither’s heavy steps crunch against the green grass as he approaches Archie.

Looking up, Archie frowns to fend off the glare of the cloudy skies. “Do you need me, Smithers?”

The older man has become his friend and a father figure. There aren't many people who work in Lodge Manor. Maids clean the whole house every other day, but they don’t stay. They come during the day, Smithers giving them directions they follow dutifully, but they always leave before dawn. Smithers and Andre are the only ones who stay here, like him. There’s not even a cook, and that seemed strange to Archie… strange until he remembers Veronica and how she looked that night.

Smithers clasps his hands in front of him. His smile is tight. “Master Hiram wishes to speak to you. He’s expecting you in his study.”

For some reason, the first thought that comes to mind is Veronica. Archie’s blood runs cold, afraid Hiram Lodge has discovered his chauffeur has made out with his daughter under his roof. Or that maybe Veronica has confessed and asked for his head, for him to be kicked out and left once again without a job. He can’t bear to be struggling day to day again. He can’t think of never seeing her again.

Fortunately, Smithers seems to read the concern in his face. “He won’t fire you, son.” There’s a fatherly quality about him, like he’s meant to be taking care of everyone including him. His old-fashioned tweed suits and those well-worn leather shoes make him look like he’s as permanent as Lodge Manor – as if he  _ were _ Lodge Manor.

Archie stands up, placing his guitar back on its case. “I thought Master Hiram was never working before dawn.” The comment is meant to be a joke with a hidden truth, at which Smithers only chuckles.

He cannot believe Archie won’t figure things out at some point. For now, there are only doubts and questions, but they cannot go unanswered forever.

“He works when work needs to be done,” Smithers replies cryptically as he turns around, his steps slow but confident. There’s no one who knows this place better than Smithers, so Archie doubts he doesn’t know the Lodges’ every secret. He could very well confirm his suspicions but, what if he’s crazy? What if he’s seeing things or being played by his active imagination?

Archie doesn’t usually roam around the manor. As directed by Smithers, he stays only where it’s proper for him to stay. Navigating his way to Hiram Lodge’s study is not something he does frequently, and the eerie silence of the halls doesn’t make it a pleasant moment either. Knocking on the ebony wooden door, Archie holds his breath for a minute before opening it.

“Sir, Smithers said you wanted to speak to me,” Archie announces, not daring to set a foot inside if not prompted by his boss.

It’s the middle of the day, but here the heavy velvet curtains are closed and there’s a warm yellow glow of a few Edison light bulbs.

Slowly lifting his head, Hiram grins in a way that seems condescending and terrifying at the same time. “That’s right, Archie. Please come in.” He stands up from his ox blood red chair. The sleeves of his black shirt are perfectly rolled up, in some sort of less formal look. Hiram might be in his fifties, but he makes sure to be fit and not only seem threatening by his position but also by his presence. “Take a seat,” he says, pointing at one of the armchairs that face the fireplace.

Again, Archie does as told and watches as Hiram sits on the other one. They are separated by the small round table where a bottle of rum sits. 

“I hope you know I appreciate your work so far, particularly after the circumstances that prompted your hiring.” Hiram sits back, frowning as he crosses his legs.

“Thank you, sir.”

Hiram nods in recognition, but he doesn’t acknowledge Archie’s words, more preoccupied by his own. 

“As you have surely realized over the last months, I have an unusual time schedule. Not much different from my daughter’s, but hers is a little more…” He pauses, thinking carefully about his choice of words. “ _ Disorganized _ . She requires someone who can keep up with her changing nature and someone who can keep her safe.”

Archie’s back feels rigid and cold. But he tries to breathe as normally as he can, not moving a muscle that can give him away.

“I understand you practice boxing?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve been training since high school.”

“Good, because what I’m asking for you is to keep an eye on Veronica. Never leave her side, and inform me of her whereabouts. At all times.”

The look on his face must give some of his surprise away, no matter how much he schools his features. Archie has never been great at keeping his emotions hidden. “I thought that was Andre’s job.”

“It was, but given your age, she might fight me less when I inform her she’ll be followed into her club.” Hiram stands up, putting an end to the conversation without waiting for an answer. This must be how things in his life work: he says something will be done, and it is.

“Sir, I–”

“You will be paid in accordance, since it wasn’t part of your job description in the beginning.” Walking back to his desk chair, and already busying himself with something else, Hiram ignores Archie until he feels the persistent and dumbfounded gaze on him. “Is there something else you need?”

For the split of a second, Archie hesitates. He truly wishes to say he’s not the man for the job. He’s not ready to be around her every night, all the time. After all, he’s seen her just a couple of times and she already has his life upside down. But then, he’s thinking about her all the time, and all he wants it’s to see her again, as much as possible.

“No, sir. Thank you for this opportunity.”

Hiram chuckles, as if the thought is ridiculous. “I hope you won’t fail me.” The way he says it is enough to make Archie understand there’s a silent threat Hiram doesn’t need to speak of. It’s understood.

It’s from then on that he will wonder if that’s a price he’s willing to pay. How high is the risk? How much higher may the reward be?

  
  


“I’m not going anywhere near my club with you looking like a third rate butler,” Veronica interrupts as she waltzes into the kitchen that Thursday night. The heels of her Giuseppe Zanotti sandals lead a sharp and rhythmical call for attention. And it works because the redheaded driver sitting across the island, drinking from a bottle of water looks at her wide-eyed.

Smithers chuckles in the raspy way of someone who spent years smoking – right until around the eighties when she forced him to quit before he caught something nasty. Unlike her own father, Smithers wasn’t going to be around forever, but she wished he could be.

“You have no style compared to this man, Andrews,” Veronica adds as she stands next to Smithers, linking an arm with his. As usual, he’s in an impeccable suit and smells like aftershave. He might be the only thing in this mansion that makes it feel a home for her.

Archie looks down at himself, at the generic but well-crafted suit her father makes their drivers wear. Even if he fills it nicely, he looks like the help and there’s no way he’ll blend in. “I have nothing  _ better _ to wear to your club.”

She rolls her eyes, and sighs. “Smithers, could you please give him what I ordered from the tailor’s?”

“Of course, Miss Veronica.”

The stool in which the older man is sitting creaks slightly as he pushes himself to stand up. He leaves the room, leaving Veronica and Archie alone for the first time in weeks. For the first time since they made out in this room, against this kitchen island, and he saw her truth.

Archie’s gaze is heavy on her, and she can tell there are many unanswered questions he wants to make. But those questions are not meant to be spoken in this godforsaken place. There are ears and eyes everywhere, even when there’s not enough people. And she tried to keep him away, safe from her, but her father’s idea to control her got in the way. Had she outright refused, Hiram would know something was wrong. If she accepted too quickly, he’ll be suspicious too. As it had been for decades, she knew there was a certain amount of resistance expected. No matter how excited she was to study this young hot-blooded man.

When Smither returns, Archie is about to open his mouth. Fortunately, he doesn’t.

“These are the clothes you must wear from now on,” Veronica instructs as Smithers hands Archie two garment bags and a stack of neatly wrapped dress shirts. “If you want me to allow you to breathe near five feet from myself.”

“You want me to change?”

“I’d rather wait for you tonight than to be embarrassed for eternity for being seen with you looking like a cheap copy of James Bond.” She takes a seat next to Smithers, her Balmain sequin dress riding up as she crosses her legs. When she sees Archie doesn’t move, she snaps her fingers. “Wake up, Archiekins. The night is young but it won’t last forever.”

Archie finally leaves to his room, leaving her only with Smithers. This might be more scarier than being in a room alone with her father, because Smithers knows her better. And by the way he’s looking at her, she knows what he’ll say.

“Miss–”

“Don’t get close to him?” A self-deprecating smile curves her lips, but there’s no glint of humor in her eyes. “I know. I’ve known so for decades. Don’t let anyone in. Don’t get attached.”

“I know it’s much to ask, but I only do so for your safety.” Smithers sighs, his forehead wrinkling with worry. Veronica reaches for his weathered hand, placing her own pale and smooth one as the simplest of gestures, but feeling like a mockery against nature. For fifty years, she’s seen him grow old while she barely changes. “I don’t know what your father had in mind with this, but I don’t believe it’s a good idea.”

“Why?” she murmurs, trying to be complacent.

“Archie is not like the people who your father has usually hired. He’s kinder, less prone to darkness.”

What Smithers means is what she guessed from the moment she visited Archie’s dreams. There’s something about him that made their connection strong, but also made her control over him weaker. The way he kissed her, how his heart beat pumping blood through his body with strength at an intoxicating rhythm. Archie didn’t look at her with fear when he saw her true self. He didn’t see her with morbidness, but with honest curiosity. Innocent.

“You’re not like the people my father usually hires.” Smithers is the man who taught her more about the real world than her father ever could. While Hiram spoke about conquering the world, Smithers kept reminding her to take time to look at the beauty of the stars at night.

“I’ve learned to compromise. Besides, your father was not the one who hired me. My commitment is to you, as before it was to your mother.”

Veronica nods, pursing her lips and trying not to fall down on that part of her past. Her mother is a sore subject she avoids to talk about, even if she’s who she is because of Hermione. And now she’s a caged bird because of her too. She learned no one can run away from Hiram Lodge, no one can even try.

“Once, you’ll be free of this,” Veronica promises, standing up and smiling as she squeezes Smithers’ hand. “I promise.” She then almost chuckles. “Which suit did you choose, Archie?”

Smithers chuckles as the young man stops walking as soon as Veronica catches a whiff of his cologne.

“Dark blue suit.”

Veronica turns around to see him, dashing in a perfectly tailored suit, thanks to the measurements they already had to make his uniform. The tie is forgotten, and his red hair works nicely against the blue shade. She would very much love to stare at him and pay attention to details, like how the sleeves encase his biceps or how his pants clad his behind, but instead she swiftly spins around, her dark hair following her.

“Better. Now, let’s go.”

“What car is yours?”

Veronica doesn’t stop walking when Archie makes the question. She only smirks. “All of them. But tonight I feel like the Imperial. It’ll match your outfit.”

  
  


The Imperial is a large blue car from the 1940s, one that was made for luxury then and still evokes the feeling now. Archie feels as if he’s stepping into an old movie, and the movie star is sitting in the back, looking into the night in that sparkly short dress. The colorful geometric shapes are a contrast against her pale skin and dark hair.

It’s an hour long trip, and he’d like to ask the important questions, but not without looking at her face to face. If it was in a moment of intimacy that he got to see the hidden part of her, then he wants the truth in the same way. Because no matter all the stories that got into his head the moment he saw her fangs and her darkened eyes, the thought of her can’t leave his mind. He can still remember how her lips felt against his, the smooth skin against his fingers, and that perfume that filled his lungs in a hazy enchantment.

“Did you say no to him?” Veronica asks in a soft voice as the voice of Sam Cooke’s  _ Mean Old World  _ fills the heavy air surrounding them.

“Your father?” Archie asks as the lights of a car coming in the opposite direction illuminate his face.

She scoffs. “What am I asking? Had you done that, you wouldn’t be here.” Her dark eyes are magnetic as they find his through the rearview mirror. There’s a hint of amusement, but also disappointment in her gaze. “He doesn’t like to be told no, so I assume you never mentioned that word when he offered you the position of being my babysitter.”

“I don’t have much of a choice, unlike you. If you didn’t want me to drive you, then you could’ve asked for someone else. You are the princess, I’m… the idiot who doesn’t want to go back to struggling.” He pauses, waiting for some kind of comeback, but instead she stays quiet. “You don’t know who I am.”

“You don’t know who I am either.” Her voice is soft, but it only hides hurt. No matter how arrogant she looks on the outside, he can sense there’s something else lurking behind that. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“It can’t be much worse than where I was.”

The unknown, the day to day struggle of not being sure if he’d have enough to eat or a roof over his head, if he’d lose his friends over money problems, or the pain of realizing his dreams would never come true were much worse than following a pretty girl who partied every night.

“We’re vampires,” Veronica bluntly confesses. “In case you were still wondering if what you saw that night was real. If you had a doubt about your dream. It was me.”

“Vampires–” Archie babbles, trying to come up with some question or sentence to clear his own mind.

“Aren’t real?” She chuckles, a humorless laugh that seems empty. “I’ve learned people usually like to believe the monsters aren’t real, but they are. We lurk in the darkness, hiding and waiting, watching as humanity comes and goes like seasons. You bloom and wither again and again, but we stay. We use you, because we’ve made you believe you’re living. But what do you know about life? I’ve seen it many times, passing me by.”

“So why do you care what I do? As I’ve come, I’ll go.” Archie turns around a corner deep into Manhattan’s belly where  _ La Bonne Nuit _ awaits. The city lights cast shadows in the car, and he can see the way something in her eyes changes. He parks the car and holds her gaze, challenging her. Her sad smile wasn’t one he was expecting.

“I hope so, Archiekins. I hope when the time comes, you can go.” She pushes the door open before he can follow her. Her heels click against the pavement while he locks the car, walking ten feet behind her.

Veronica says something to the guards standing outside, but she doesn’t even look over her shoulder to make sure he’s following her. The men let him in without trouble, unlike the first time when they looked him up and down.

The beat of the music is a vibration he can feel in his entire body with each step he takes closer into the club. Much like the first time the place is packed, bodies close to one another in what seems to be a seamless group – he couldn’t pinpoint who is with who, or if they even are together or not. Yet, Veronica stands out as she snakes her way through the mass of people.

Some burly man knocks on to him, but Archie only fixes his jacket and moves on, ignoring the glare the man sends him. He’s not here to get in trouble, unless trouble finds him while doing his job.

They arrive at the stairs that lead to the private balcony where he found Veronica the first time, and the same guy with slicked hair shows up, climbing down at a leisurely pace.

“Veronica, dear,” the guy greets, air kissing both of Veronica’s cheeks. Only then he eyes Archie, raising one eyebrow when he finds him. “You have company.”

“Daddy has chosen to have me followed, Kevin.” She barely angles her body to look at Archie over her shoulder. “So meet Archie Andrews, my parole officer.”

Kevin cackles. “My apologies, Mr. Andrews. You have the most perilous job in New York!” He outstretches a hand. “Kevin Keller,  _ La Bonne Nuit _ ’s manager. If you need anything, don’t hesitate coming to me.” He adds when Archie shakes his hand, a firm grip that shows not only confidence but honesty.

After taking the offered hand, Veronica links her arms with Kevin as they both lead the way to the balcony that partially overlooks the club. Archie follows them into the VIP area, where he can recognize some of the people he saw the first time. He can particularly pinpoint the redhead girl who glowers at him from her seat, sipping a cocktail decorated with two cherries on the brim of the glass.

“That’s Cheryl,” Veronica whispers as she approaches him with a tall glass of a clear liquid with a slice of lime in it. He’s about to refuse, because this is not a time for him to have fun and drink on the job, when she smiles. “Relax. It’s lime seltzer water. You’re so predictable.” She mocks him, as she sips her own drink in a cocktail glass.

He takes some of his drink, making sure it’s clean. She of course smirks.

“So why does she hate me?”

“That’s Cheryl, being Cheryl,” Veronica quips, finally moving away to sit next to said woman, and leaving him all by himself.

It’s hard to look away from her, not only because it is his job but because he feels the unavoidable attraction to Veronica. He wonders if it has something to do with her being a vampire – he’s still trying to wrap his mind about that idea. Maybe it’s just a way of life, something the filthy rich practice, but then why would they hide it if that was the case? Why wouldn’t Smithers tell him about it as if it was nothing more than an oddity?

Cheryl and Veronica talk, both looking like the queens of plebs who dance to their rhythm below. Much like Veronica, Cheryl is a beauty with long luscious red hair, dressed in a short dress that even if it has a long gauzy skirt, it does nothing to cover much. There’s something about her that makes her look more aggressive, but that might be the way she’s looking at him.

He leans against the railing, watching the throngs of people dancing and drinking in what could only describe as a city bacchanal. Here everything might be allowed, there’s nothing to shame and there’s a corner for everyone to find their place. Even those who feed on someone else’s life.

Kevin has disappeared for a few minutes while Archie goes for another drink, taking his jacket off as the heat of the club becomes too stuffy for him to feel able to breathe. He has one more tall glass of seltzer in his hand when he watches how Kevin leads a tall and muscular guy up the stairs and towards Cheryl and Veronica. Even if the man seems slightly nervous, he smiles and sits between the girls while Kevin takes a spot a few feet away, watching.

For the unknowing eye, Cheryl and Veronica seem like they are flirting. Cheryl’s perfectly manicured hand slides over the lapel of the man’s jacket, over his chest as if she were petting him, soothing his nerves as her ruby red lips stretch on a smile. She whispers sweet nothings as she cards her fingers through the man’s brown hair. Meanwhile, Veronica undoes the two top buttons of his shirt, one of her legs resting on top of the man’s lap.

Archie can feel the jealousy bubbling up inside of him, and he’d like to intervene but if he does, he’ll regret it. So, his knuckles turn white while holding his glass, with a drink he still doesn’t drink because he has barely breathed watching the scene developing in front of him.

The black shellacked nail of Veronica’s index finger traces the jaw of the guy who now looks much more relaxed. She angles his face gently, and then leans forward. It’s easy to pinpoint the exact moment in which Veronica’s fangs pierce his skin by the way the man’s jaw falls open. When Cheryl does the same, the guy lets his head fall back. He doesn’t look in pain – the opposite, he looks as if he were enjoying it, as if he was in ecstasy by the way his body relaxes and tenses, as his arms reach for both girls, pulling them closer to him. One hand digs on Cheryl’s waist while the other reaches for Veronica’s thigh, as if he were grasping for something to keep him grounded before he flies away in pleasure.

It only lasts a few short minutes, but when the women pull away, the guy seems spent. Completely and utterly exhausted but relaxed. And then, Kevin goes to him, lovingly caressing his face and gently pulling him upright, leading him to another velvet couch where Kevin almost nurses him with a drink, and a kiss to his lips.

This is the most bizarre of experiences.

“You better get used to it,” Veronica says, taking Archie by surprise as she stands by his side. But when he looks at her, he sees a drop of blood hanging on the corner of her mouth. He turns around to the private upstairs bar and takes a napkin.

“You have a little…  _ something _ . Here,” he says pointing on his face where the blood stains her flawless skin.

She smirks before her tongue peeks out and she licks the drop off.

He doesn’t give her any satisfaction and instead takes a sip of his drink. “So, what was that?”

“Dinner,” Veronica says nonchalantly. But when he narrows his eyes, she chuckles. “That’s Marmaduke Mason, better known as–”

“Moose Mason, the Giants linebacker.” Archie is surprised, as he watches again where Kevin helps Moose in a tender fashion, making sure he’s okay.

“One side effect of our feeding process is that we inject our  _ victims _ with dopamine and serotonin, among other chemicals that help them feel good and relaxed. It’s a mechanism that lowers their resistance and also prevents them from attacking us.” She sighs, leaning against the bar. “Extremely necessary a few centuries ago, while now it’s what we exchange for food.”

“It’s like getting high.”

“Basically. So, for athletes like him, it’s perfect. We get prime food, while he finds a respite from the disgusting world that cannot accept one of the best sportsmen in football nowadays is bi and having a relationship with another man.” Veronica takes a new drink from the hand of the woman behind the VIP bar and clinks her glass against his. “Welcome to the place where our worlds meet.”

If this ever looked like a strange dream, he’d say it’s now. How could this debauched dark world be more accepting than the one that lived under the bright daylight?

  
  


The night is slow and tame, which Veronica thinks it’s good considering is Archie’s first official night as her bodyguard. To her surprise, he’s much more open minded than expected, even if he didn’t partake in any outrageous activity, nor even in one mildly entertaining. Such a well-behaved boy, he never lost her from his sight.

Now, at six in the morning, they are back in the Imperial. The cold of the morning makes her shiver. The air outside the thick atmosphere of the club, makes her yawn – too much oxygen at once. Too little noise, even in the city that never sleeps. This is as human as she can feel, she guesses.

“Did you have fun?” Veronica asks Archie as they leave the island, leaning back on the seat, wondering how much time she has before the first rays of sun filter through the cloudy skies.

“I wouldn’t call it fun,” Archie replies, one of his eyebrows curving up.

She can see he’s tired, more than her at least, but that’s the toll it takes on humans to live during the night and rest during the day. They still need to sleep and eat, drink in sunshine as part of their vital process. It’s all that keeps their blood running through them.

“Having a woman flashing you, being propositioned by a guy for a steamy  _ rendezvous _ in the restroom, and having drinks is not your idea of fun?” She smiles, chuckling a bit as she remembers the scenes. Ever the gentleman, Archie declined both invitations as politely as he could, and kept on drinking lime seltzer.

“I was there to look after you, not to party.” He sighs, glancing at her through the rearview mirror as the crease between his eyebrows turns deeper, slightly shaking his head. “I’m still trying to…  _ understand _ .”

Understand. That’s how he calls the process of finally realizing the truths he was told during his whole life were lies. Monsters do exist, and not only in the metaphorical sense of the word, not only those who exert power and take advantage of one another, but those who truly feed off lives. How disgusting must be for him to look at her. He kissed  _ something _ that drinks blood in order to survive,  _ something _ that hides in the dark and feeds like a leech.

“Stop the car.”

“What?”

“Just stop, Archie,” she orders with severity, and feels as the car slows down at the side of the road, the engine still roaring to keep the heat in the cabin which is not much considering how old this beauty of the past is. Her father refuses to modify the old cars, because they are the only things he’s been able to keep as tokens over the years – much like them, the cars haven’t changed.

She reaches for the door handle to open it, and hears the panic laced to Archie’s voice as he calls her name. He tries to step out, probably ready to chase her, even if he wouldn’t have a chance against her had she decided to escape. No, that’s not her intention. She’s not in the mood to fight or behave like the spoiled heiress she is. Veronica only gets out of the car to move to the passenger seat and face Archie, looking deep into those honey eyes that under this precarious light look like the bottom of a whisky bottle.

“Tell me how much I disgust you.” He stares at her, his hand still holding the door handle. Unmoving as he tries to come up with an answer. “Tell me how revolting I am to you.”

Those thick and bushy eyebrows of his knit together, the scar between them carved so deep as he frowns, she wishes she could smoothe it with her thumb.

“You’re not revolting,” Archie murmurs. “I’m not disgusted.”

“Are you afraid?” It would be a valid emotion. His heart is accelerated, she can feel it, which is a natural reaction for someone who is scared or angry or…

“I’m attracted to you,” he admits, sighing and scoffing as he looks down at the steering wheel. “And I have questions that are probably offending in some sense, but no more wrong than wanting to kiss my boss’ daughter again.” He throws his head back and blows a breath, looking at the ceiling as if he could find the answers there. Praying for things she knows they won’t find. She’s tried. She’s begged for them.

“Ask me your offending questions.”

He turns his head to watch her smirk, so he chuckles.

“In eighty-seven years there’s not much I haven’t heard.”

“That’s how old you are?”

She nods. By all standards, she’s a young vampire. She was born before World War II. It was by the time her father had taken advantage of the losses of the Great Depression, when he became rich after decades of being a hungry vassal of the vampire who created him. He not only got rid of  _ his master _ , but took over the empire, expanding it until he could own half of New York – a real estate tycoon who had half the people in the city under his thumb.

“I had never kissed someone that old.”

She laughs at his joke, but it’s short-lived. “I don’t think many eighty-seven year-olds look like me. As I doubt this is the only question you have.”

He looks ahead into the road and its darkness. “I don’t know if what I feel for you is real. I mean, do you have some sort of magic sex-appeal or something?” Archie hesitantly looks at her half-way through his question.

“Magic sex-appeal?” Veronica giggles when he groans. He’s watched too many movies. “Coercion. Yes, but it’s not something that just happens. We have to be aware of it so it works. And I haven’t tried it on you.” She pauses, remembering his dream and how she slipped into it to see him and enjoy a moment with this attractive man. “Actually, no. I did.”

“When?” His body shifts slightly to face her.

“Does it matter? It didn’t work on you.”

Archie must make the mental recount of the times they’ve been together in the same room, and one of them wasn’t in this plane. “My dream.” But he still remembers her reaction when he was able to move and do as he pleased during his dream. “That’s why you were surprised.”

“It had never happened to me.”

“You were there with me? In,  _ uhm _ , my dream.” There’s a light flush to his cheeks, she can feel his skin warming up. “Why?”

“Because I’m attracted to you too.” She slides closer to him on the bench seat, her knee against the gear shifter. Her body turns to the side as he does the same. His breath smells like lime, and as usual he feels warm. How can he, without touching, make her skin feel alive?

Coercion couldn’t have this effect on him. He’d lean in, just like he’s doing, but he wouldn’t be looking at her lips like he wants a taste of her – he’d be waiting for instructions.

“We can’t,” Archie murmurs, the tone of his voice richer as it drops an octave.

A slow wicked smile finds its way to her lips, as her hand reaches for the lapel of his jacket. “We shouldn’t. But we definitely can.” Veronica’s other hand reaches for his neck, gliding up until she touches the shell of his ear, tugging him closer so she can brush her lips against his.

Her eyelids feel heavy, and when she closes her eyes, she can hear his heavy breathing. His large hand falls on the curve of her waist, and he pulls her closer, digging on her skin with hunger.

Getting closer, being drawn into this, seems inevitable.

“Veronica.”

His breath is hot against her neck as he tilts his head, inhaling deeply as if he wanted nothing more than to get acquainted with her body. The way her breath hitches, how she feels her body trembling, makes her feel pliant under his touch.

Her fingers card through his hair, tugging at it, as Archie finally pushes her back with his sinewy body. They move under the sound of pants and needy gasps, until he finally lays her on the bench of the car, his lips with bruising passion against hers. His tongue probs into her mouth as his delicious weight presses her against the seat.

It’s been decades since she’s tried to lure a human for them to fulfill her desires, for something a little more than a tryst. The only thing she makes sure of is to keep her food entertained and be a good host. What she feels now, how her body tingles and reacts to this warm body atop of hers, it’s something new and electrifying. Maybe this is how it feels to be alive.

Veronica’s hands push his jacket off, tugs his shirt out of his pants, and her nails scratch him up his back, making him hiss as they claw at him, wanting to have him closer.

“Get naked,” she orders, moving her head to the side and while he softly kisses her cheek. But that’s all he does. He kisses her in such a gentle way, she feels a heaviness in the middle of her chest. It’s hard not to try to coerce him, to look into his eyes and try to convey something that doesn’t work.

“No.” Archie sighs, pushing himself off her.

They look like a mess. Him more than her, with his shirt half unbuttoned and wrinkled, his hair messy after she played with it, and his mouth stained with her lipstick. He should be naked. He should be at her beck and call, and not tucking his shirt in. She shouldn’t be wondering what will happen.

“I thought you wanted me,” she spits out with a good dose of venom, watching him put his jacket back on.

The soft smile on his face is unnerving. She almost flinches when he lifts a hand, because if she’s learned something in life is that good things last very little. This might as well be a sick joke. He might be one of her father’s faithful soldiers and not someone different, like she wanted to believe.

“I’m attracted to you,” Archie repeats in a velvety voice that caresses and eases the weight settled in her chest. His hand softly pushes a lock of her hair out of her face, the rough pad of his finger tracing the line of her forehead and cheek. “Ronnie,” he calls for the first time, with the same sweetness her mother once used, the true feeling hitting a string in her memories that makes her eyes feel wet. “I want you, yes. But not like this. If I do this, you’ll discard me like the people at your club.”

She looks down, toying with one of the zippers on the sleeves of her dress, trying and failing miserably to stop her emotions from pouring out.

“Take me back to the Manor.” Her voice is painfully quiet.

“I’m sorry,  _ Miss Veronica _ .” He thinks she’s putting the walls back on, pushing him away like a spoiled child who is bored with their toys.

She flinches, pursing her lips together. “Don’t call me that. Not again.” Lifting her gaze, she meets his. He can’t understand what it’s like to live decades trying to build up walls and be safe after feeling betrayed by the ones she loved the most. The loneliness is unbearable if you let yourself feel it. So she doesn’t. Not until now. “Not when we are alone.” She’d like nothing more than to push him away, but she can’t.

Archie’s hand reaches for hers, caressing her knuckles, anchoring her to the ground and to the consequences of a fragile human existence.

“Ronnie?”

She smiles. “The night’s not so young anymore, Archiekins.”

  
  


The first rays of sunshine are slipping through the clouds like cold blades when they finally make it to Lodge Manor. Archie parks the car in front of the main entrance, and rounds it to open the door for Veronica. Of course she’s in the back of the car again, looking as regal as always when he opens the black umbrella and she steps out of the car.

His body betrays him as he takes a tiny step forward, like a moth to the flame. Tempted, because he knows how it feels and it’s addictive.

“Stop.” Veronica takes the umbrella from his hand, her soft and cold hand grazing his. “My father is looking at us.” She doesn’t lift her gaze. She doesn’t need to, because Archie also feels a shiver up his spine.

It’s impressive how Veronica can control her emotions to conceal everything that just transpired between them. She’s back to the cold heiress, too conceited to even worry about leaving him standing outside without saying thank you or goodbye.

When he looks up, Hiram stands in front of the window that belongs to his study. One large window that overlooks the land, controlling everything as a master should. Hiram smirks, making sure Archie is aware he’s being watched, and only then closes the curtains.

Only in this moment Archie realizes what he’s getting himself into. The threats are left unsaid, they are neatly wrapped and hidden behind gilded decorations and velvet curtains inside this castle, ruled by a vicious king who is making sure to keep the princess captive. He wonders what’s the role he’s supposed to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song at the beginning is Half Light by BANNERS


	3. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems like I choose to update every few months but it hasn't been a choice, more like what life has allowed me to write, since it's been a very chaotic time.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new chapter.
> 
> A big thank you to [monicaposh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monicaposh/) for beta'ing this chapter. Thank you, Em!!!

_ “Come to me _

_ In the night hours _

_ I will wait for you _

_ And I can't sleep _

_ 'Cause thoughts devour _

_ Thoughts of you consume” _

Days have gone by. Days and nights he hasn’t seen her more than in his thoughts. Not even in his dreams, not even in the shadows. Veronica is avoiding him, and he’s well aware of it. The question that remains is why. Everything seemed fine the night they kissed – despite knowing he was stepping into an unknown darkness just because Veronica seemed to lure him in with a light only she could possess.

Archie returns from his day off in the middle of the night, wide awake at three in the morning. The halls glow in that golden hue only those ornate gold wall lamps can cast – a poor attempt to replicate sunlight in the darkest of hours. The silence is only interrupted by his steps, by the wind that picks up at night, and the killdeers singing from time to time. If he were outside, he’s sure he could hear the sea, waves crashing against the shore.

When he reaches his bedroom and places his hand on the doorknob, he feels a shiver up his spine for no reason at all apparently. He lifts his gaze to look down the corridor to confirm there’s no one. But a killdeer sings again, and it makes Archie frown.

He enters his room, shrugging off his jacket before he can kick the door close and turn the lights on. Out of habit, the jacket falls on the back of the chair of his small desk as the door clicks shut. He turns around to reach for the switch, but before he can touch it there’s a cold and soft touch against his other hand.

In the dark, he can’t make out more than shadows and moonlight sneaking through the curtains, but he can smell the distinct scent of fresh rain, like dew in the early morning.

“May I turn the lights on?” His question comes out in a low voice, slow and relaxed as his eyes adjust better to the poor lighting and he can see her shadow.

“Do you want to?” Veronica’s voice is a velvety whisper as her hand travels up his arm and her nails dig in his bicep.

“I want to see you.” That’s a misuse of the word. He actually  _ needs _ to see her. Though lately he has questioned his senses more than ever before. Seeing her might not be enough, as it isn’t feeling her. “Are you really here?”

“I’m always here.” That’s the problem. She’s always there but never where he wants her to be. Never by his side, even if he’s sure he can feel her presence and the distance between them.

“Don’t play tricks on me.” He doesn’t mean to sound as tired as he does, but he’s not in the mood for jokes when he’s been craving her touch for days. She might not say it or be obvious about it, but he knows she’s been avoiding him.

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” The lilt of her voice hides the murmur of her steps, and he cannot pinpoint the moment the room is bathed in gold hues as she flicks the switch on. “Better, Archiekins?”

She looks like a star from Hollywood’s Golden Age, like Hedy Lamarr or Vivien Leigh in those movies his dad liked to watch on Friday nights when he returned late from high school parties. He always joined Fred to watch these women steal the attention from whatever could be happening in the story. Their beauty was bewitching and their alluring persona demanded attention. Veronica in her long lavender gauzy wrap dress, with her glossy dark hair in big curls, parted to the side, long lashes and plum lips certainly command his attention. She has all his attention.

He doesn’t want to smirk or be amused, but the mix of anticipation and excitement lowers his self-control when her hands frame his face and she smiles at him.

“I’m here,” she whispers.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He manages to ball his fists before they can reach out to take her by the waist.

“Haven’t you enjoyed your time off?” she quips. “Do tell, what’s better than to earn your pay while having to do absolutely nothing?” That’s right. He hasn’t driven her anywhere in almost a week and he often wonders how that could be. How she can run a business like this.

“It’s been driving me crazy,” he confesses in a defeated tone.

Despite the long evenings he’s spent tuning his guitar, playing random notes, and tying together words that mostly evoked her.

“Being idle or being without me?” Her lips curl in a wicked smile while her fingers toy with his ears.

“Ronnie,” Archie warns in a low voice. They might be in his room, at one far corner of this mansion but in this place, it seems like anything could be heard by someone. Or seen. Yet, at the same time, all its corridors are blanketed with secrets. 

“The absence makes the heart grow fonder.” She’s teasing him, and he won’t take it anymore.

The strange magnetism that pulls him towards her is almost frightening. Since he learned about her nature, about her existence defying every rule he was taught during his life, Archie has wondered if what he feels is real. It might never be clear. But his body acts before his mind could ever catch up. His heart races at her touch. His skin senses her before he can see her.

Placing his hand on her lower back, he pulls her towards him. Even in her heels, her eyes only reach his mouth, and his sudden move forces her to hold him by the shoulders and tilt her head up.

“You missed me.” She’s not asking. She doesn’t have to because this is obvious. He couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “Archie,” Veronica breathes out, the sweet air caressing his skin. “Will you kiss me?”

It’s all he needs to tilt his head and finally press his lips to hers. Veronica’s fingers hold the back of his neck before they card through his hair, all while he uses one arm around her waist to keep her close and touches her cheek to cradle her delicate face. 

She tastes like summer wine. Sweet. Rich. Intoxicating.

With a teasing bite to his lower lip, she makes him gasp. Using it as a distraction, she pushes him back towards his bed until the back of his knees hit the edge.

A sinful smile curves her lips as her hands reach for the ends of the bow that keep her dress in place. Once the knot is undone, she makes sure to keep looking at his eyes, neither of them wavering, even as she sheds the dress and the fabric pools at her feet.

“I missed you, too,” Veronica purrs, taking his hand to place her on the skin of her waist. She shivers with the heat of his touch and lets out a little laugh as her eyes fall close. There’s something innocent in the way she enjoys his caress so Archie runs the back of his hand up and down her arm softly.

“Will you vanish between my fingers? Is this some kind of illusion?” He takes a lock of her hair between his index and middle finger, still holding her by the waist.

“Would that make this night any less…  _ satisfying _ ?” Her nimble hands unbuckle his belt, popping the button of his jeans open. “In such a long life, I’ve learned we must take the things that make us happy. No matter how fleeting they seem.”

He holds her still and waits until she looks at him in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere. Are you?”

“I’m with you.” And they both know that’s all she can promise.

The unspoken question remains. Is he okay with that? In her lifetime he might become nothing more than an anecdote. A footnote. And yet, for him, Veronica is life-changing. She marks a before and after, and under such circumstances, how can he ask for more? He’ll take whatever she’s willing to give, and risk the little he has.

He undresses to match her, to feel her greedy touch roam his chest before his shirt can even hit the ground. For someone who has lived so much, she looks amazed by every freckle and crevice until her palms fall flat on his chest and her eyes flutter shut. She hums to the rhythm of his heartbeat as if it were some sort of magical music as if his body could speak for him.

“They think all heartbeats are the same, but that’s a lie. There’s a different way in which the blood travels through your body, almost imperceptible pauses, different strengths for every heart.” Her hands glide up to his shoulders and she presses her ear to his chest. “I could pick yours up in a room full of people,” she whispers.

There’s not much for him to say. He knows he told her no once, and he wonders if he’ll be able to say no a second time. Naked. Vulnerable.

It was the truth that he told her that night. The last thing he wants it’s to be one of the people who lines up to be a taste on a menu. He won’t be another face in an endless line of food and entertainment.

“You’re caving in. Your will is wavering,” Veronica muses, before taking his chin to tilt his head so he’s looking at those dark orbs, to see the abyss he’s so willing to let himself fall into. “But you will say no again.” Her smile is soft, and she doesn’t look upset about the answers that hide deep inside him.

He kisses her instead. He takes her in his arms and presses her against his body, feeling her legs wrapping around his waist before he can turn around to lay her on the bed. Archie crawls over and kisses up her neck while she plays with his hair. He swears he can feel a pulse, but wonders if it’s just his imagination. Veronica gasps hotly when his fingers dig on her waist.

“Tell me a secret,” Archie whispers in her ear.

She laughs while her left leg curls around him to pull him closer to her, to topple over her. It’s low and alluring, and it makes him shiver with want. When he lifts his head to look at her face, her eyes look strangely unguarded, shining with an unusual innocence.

“I’m as scared as you are that this isn’t real. That  _ you _ aren’t real.”

They spend hours kissing, holding each other in mostly silence. It’s some strange attempt to reassure the other they are more than a thought. Because if their lips are bruised, if her nails dig deep enough on his skin and his hold on her is tight enough, they must be real, right? This must exist. And their feelings cannot be madness.

Morning hasn’t come yet when she kisses his cheek after wrapping her dress around her body again. Veronica leaves as silently as she arrived, but watching her go without the certainty of her return might become harder each time.

  
  


_ Joie de vivre _ . This must be it. Or the closest she might get, considering her nature.

Every night becomes harder to hide her excitement to get into the car with Archie. Just the sight of his wild red hair ignites a flame of pure emotion within her. But giving her emotions away is a risk she cannot afford.

If her father found out… her fate might match that of her mother, and if one time she didn’t mind thinking about that as her end, with Archie that opinion has changed.

Smithers glances at her from his spot behind the kitchen island with worry. His eyes are wrinkled at their corners, his lips curved down and pressed tight. It’s clear there’s something he wants to say but he won’t – he knows her well enough to be quite aware that unwanted advice would be met with a wall of derision. But he also knows she values him more than most people.

“Mind telling me what I did to upset you?” she asks, crossing her legs while waiting for Archie to take the Aston Martin V8 from the garage. She felt like the burgundy beauty would match her humor tonight and her tuxedo dress that pretended to be more modest with a lace inset that did little to cover the skin revealed by the square neckline that reached her waist – basically a decoration of floral details to add a touch of sweet femininity to a garment that claimed power.

“There’s nothing you could do to upset me, Miss Veronica,” Smithers replies as he pours himself a cup of tea like he does every night he must be on alert when her father and she leave the Manor.

She’d believe him if it weren’t for how much he’s trying to avoid her gaze.

“I’ve known you most of your life, you’ve never lied to me so don’t start now.” She stands up and her hip finds support against the counter while she looks at Smithers. The old and loyal man sighs audibly as he shakes his head.

“I worry.” He finally looks at her, and his expression is soft even under that weathered face. It’s the hardest thing to see the people she cares about growing old, knowing each of the lines across his face mean he’s closer to an end she’ll never know. Each line means time, and as much as she has known him, Smithers knows her very well too. “I’ve seen you and Archie–”

“There’s nothing to see,” she replies, cutting him off. The defensive tone accompanies the way she crosses her arms over her chest. “Nothing to worry about.” But that’s a lie, and Smithers can see right through it, despite his slow nod of agreement.

“Nevertheless, I’ll worry. For as long as I’m at your service.” Smithers adds two sugars to his tea and takes a tentative sip.

“And even if there were,” Veronica pauses to take a breath as a wave of nostalgia washes over her. “We cannot be. He’ll leave one day, and I’ll be here as I’ve always been, as it should be.”  _ That _ is the truth. Archie might be experiencing attraction to her, he might want her now, but even if her life is eternal, his feelings won’t be. He’s human, and as such he’ll wither. She’ll lose him one way or another, and that could hurt them terribly so. There’s a certainty and that is this isn’t meant to last.

“I only want to keep you safe, when I’m not here… I need to know you’ll be safe.” Smithers takes one of her hands and holds it in a loose grip. He’ll too leave her sooner than later. “And your father,” Smithers frowns at the thought. “If he finds out about you and Archie… you know what he’s capable of. That poor boy doesn’t deserve his wrath.”

“No one does.” Veronica paints a brave smile on her face, a mask to hide her emotions. She leans forward to press a kiss to Smithers’ cheek. “Just give me a little time, okay? Let me have this little bit of joy. I promise to let him go.”

Smithers cannot reply before Archie enters the room in another one of his tailored suits, black on black. His red hair is a flame waiting to ignite a war, and Veronica wonders if she’ll be able to stop it before it’s too late or if she’ll let herself be consumed.

“Are you ready?” Archie asks.

_ No. _

She walks past him and disguises her worries with haughtiness. “You should ask that to this city because it’s not ready for the storm I am.” She reaches for the sleeve of his jacket and forces him to turn around and follow her.

  
  


Seeing Veronica feed off people, of all those who let themselves exchange life for comfort and a high that’s not meant to last doesn’t become easier. No matter how many nights he watches her, Archie still feels a sting of jealousy. He’ll never be able to give her all she needs, no matter what he does.

“Couldn’t you feed off me?” Archie whispered one night before she snuck out of his room. In the dark, he could still see the shine of her dark eyes, a glint of the moonlight. She traced the line of his jaw with her fingers.

“You wouldn’t be able to recover between feeds. I’d kill you.” She toyed with his ear and his hand reached for her face. Her pale skin made her look as if made of porcelain under the blueish hues of the night. “Besides, as a rule, we don’t feed of our staff.”

Archie’s gentle caresses stilled. She might’ve said it as a joke, but he knew his place. One of his greatest fears was not being enough for her, the main reason why he had been afraid to give in into this relationship if he could call it that – he might be nothing but entertainment. “Is that why you haven’t tried to bite me? Because I’m your chauffeur?”

“No. That’s not why.” She scooted closer to him until he felt her words against his mouth. “I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.” Her hand was on his chest but she couldn’t look at his face. That shyness was a telltale of her own fears. The way she needed to make sure his heart kept beating rhythmically in his chest.

“What if I asked? What if I wanted to know what it feels like?”

“Would you let me drink you up if I needed it?”

“Yes.”

“You’d do it for me even if it hurt you, even if that was a sacrifice.” Veronica reached for his hand and held it tight. “There’s your answer. That’s the only reason I’d do it. If there was no other way.”

That had been two nights ago. She had left him once again when morning threatened to uncover them, and she only left behind the kisses shared and her half-promises. Meanwhile, Archie still had little idea of what he was doing. They were doomed from the start, so why does he want to keep trying? Even if they went against all odds and made it work, his days were numbered – he was mortal. It makes him ponder if a lifetime with Veronica would be enough.

A few times he has gone through his phone, wanting to call Betty and ask for advice. She’d be the voice of reason as usual. She’d make him see the mistake it was and give him the words he was so afraid to hear but were necessary. Yet, that would mark an end he didn’t want.

Other times he looked at Munroe and wanted to blurt out all those secrets, all those feelings and thoughts he is keeping buried inside, just to free himself from the burden. But it’s unfair to put that weight on a guy who is enjoying his role as a father-to-be. Munroe and Toni are living in a beautiful bubble, Archie has no right to burst.

He smiles at the small box with toy motifs on the wrapping paper as he places it on the passenger seat of the Mustang. Munroe knew it was his day off, so he invited him for a sort of a last hurrah for Toni who is quickly approaching the eight months of pregnancy. She asked for  _ one last night as not-a-mom _ instead of a baby shower, but Archie has seen her around their child’s new things and she loves it. She’s ready to be a mom. Besides he hadn’t been able to buy a gift since he didn’t have any money up until recently.

As soon as he gets in the car he adjusts his leather jacket to sit comfortably, checks the mirrors, and the healthy ounce of vanity he has in him forces him to fix his hair. He runs his fingers through it for one last touch and starts the engine to get on the road.

The November days are shorter, and at almost six the night has fallen upon them completely for a while now. It’s a sign winter will be there soon.

After passing the gates, he makes a salute towards the well-hidden camera he knows Smithers is checking on the monitor. It’ll be a quiet night after all. Master Hiram has been staying in the city to close some business and Veronica… well, he never questions Veronica’s disappearances. He only takes what he’s given.

He’s about to take the ramp to go to Manhattan, leaving Kings Point, when he feels a hand sneaking under his jack and up his chest. The scare almost makes him swerve out of his lane, but when he looks up into the rearview mirror, Archie sees the mischievous smile of one Veronica Lodge over his shoulder.

“Eyes on the road, Archiekins,” she purrs in his ear before pressing a teasing kiss to his cheek.

“What–” he babbles like an idiot because he cannot apparently multi-task. “Ronnie, what are you doing?”

Veronica laughs softly, nuzzling his neck and keeping her hand on him. “I don’t know. What are we doing, lover boy? It’s your day off and I thought the least you could do was take me out on a date.”

It’s a nice thought, he’s not going to lie. For the first time, he’s not supposed to be driving her somewhere and do his job. She’s with him in a car hoping to go wherever he plans to, doing something out of her carefully planned life.

Leaving the ramp, they enter I-495 on their way to Manhattan, and Veronica takes advantage of the even speed to move from the backseat to the front. It’s a little distracting to see her in leather pants and high heel boots, in all black as if she were Catwoman.

Before sitting next to him, she takes the gift box in her hands and arches an eyebrow.

“Are we going to some birthday party?”

“No.” Archie chuckles. “It’s some sort of babyshower.”

“Oh,” she utters and for the first time he senses hesitation in her. Not once he has stopped to think that New York’s princess of darkness could be insecure about anything. Yet, not once has he seen her out of her turf.

“It’s a couple of friends who are having their first kid. They actually had me in their home before I started working for your dad,” he explains, trying to ease her worries. “Munroe is my best friend in New York, and he and his girlfriend, Toni, invited me to celebrate one last time before they are too busy with the baby.”

“It sounds nice.” Veronica’s feeble smile looked nostalgic more than just sad, and he didn’t know if it was okay to ask what was wrong. He feared upsetting her could lead to her wanting to go back to the manor. But then she takes a deep breath and smiles brighter. “I’d love to meet them. If you want me to, of course.”

“Sure.”

He has no idea how things are going to work out, but he’d love a night of some normalcy for them – even if it’s short-lived. During the next half hour he shares a few stories about his friends, about the gym and how he became friends with  _ Mad Dog _ after being punched on the face during a training session.

Archie’s supposed to meet his friends in a small place that sells the burgers Toni loves in East Village. She used to work near-by while she was in college, and always praised the food, so Munroe planned a whole night for her. He also was a little more relaxed knowing there were a few hospitals in the area just in case.

Fortunately, Archie has little trouble finding a parking spot, but they do need to walk a couple of blocks – it’s New York after all.

When he helps Veronica out of the car, she takes a red leather jacket from the backseat and slips it on. She laughs so he knows he’s staring but really, she couldn’t be any sexier even if she tried. Those leather pants could be very well painted on her if it weren’t for the golden zippers, and the sliver of pale skin he can see where her crop sweater finishes above the waist of her pants is all kinds of tempting.

Taking the gift in one hand frees his left one to take Veronica’s. She’s startled by the gesture, but then silently agrees by walking beside him.

Munroe and Toni are already waiting outside. Archie spots them and he can’t help but smile when he notices them hugging and smiling. Munroe makes sure to keep a hand on Toni’s belly as if he wished nothing more than to keep that baby safe from the world, even if he still doesn’t know his child.

“Hi, guys,” Archie greets before stopping in front of his friends.

They both seem a little surprised that he has a woman by his side. Toni is less obvious than Munroe whose wide eyes are almost comical. Archie might’ve shared his budding feelings for his boss’ daughter a few weeks ago, and the advice had been to keep it in his pants – which technically he has…  _ technically _ .

“This is–”

“Veronica,” she introduces herself before he can give any other explanation as to who she is. It’s simple and short, and he’s thankful because he had no idea what to say. “And I love your hair,” she comments to Toni who has retouched her pink hair.

“Thanks! I love your outfit, and those pants remind me I cannot wait to have this baby out and get in shape to wear mine.” Toni leans a bit into Munroe, smiling, before she nudges him to say something.

Archie’s friend is still apparently a little shocked to see him with company.

“I hope you like burgers because this lady and our little bean have been craving for them,” Munroe finally offers, making Toni chuckle.

“As you can see, our little bean isn’t so little anymore.” Toni rubs her belly, but as she does Archie’s gaze follows Veronica.

At the mention of food, Archie is not quite sure how this will work out for Veronica. He hasn’t seen her eat real food, and he wonders if she actually can. She doesn’t seem worried or anything, but Archie suddenly realizes this will be a very enlightening night.

They enter the restaurant and find a booth for four. Once seated, Archie gives Toni the gift he bought and they joke about the tiny boxing outfit. It’s red because they didn’t want to find out about the baby’s gender, and no matter what that child will be a fighter.

A waitress approaches them to take their order and Archie hears Veronica asking for a burger and fries. No one raises an eyebrow except Archie. It feels strange to be the one feeling like he’s keeping a secret when said secret is not his own.

“Excuse me,” Veronica says as she stands up, poking his side so he moves to let her out of the booth. “I forgot to tell the waitress I don’t like relish.” She hurries to the counter while Archie keeps an eye on her.

“She’s hot!” Toni gushes, leaning closer to Archie, as far as her swollen belly allows her.

“Huh?” Archie mumbles before he processes the words, making him chuckle. “I know. She’s… gorgeous. And sexy.”

Munroe snorts a laugh. “I’m so glad I don’t have to pretend I find women attractive around you.” He throws his arm around Toni’s shoulders before he drops a kiss to her lips.

“Hey! You two, that’s my–” And Archie is not quite sure what Veronica is to him. “Girl,” he settles for, but not fully convinced about his choice of words.

“We told you, this is our last night as not parents, so we get to appreciate a hot woman,” Munroe says, which is completely right.

“Besides,” Toni shrugs a shoulder before sipping from the glass of water she asked for as soon as they sat down, “You’re hot, but we see you all the time, so we value a change in our fantasies.”

Archie laughs. “Great to know you think about me while  _ doing it _ .” He stands up to approach Veronica who hasn’t spoken to the waitress yet.

“Well, not just you anymore!” Toni quips, giggling as she turns to Munroe. There’s always been great chemistry between them – Munroe, a gentle giant, and Toni, a petite woman with a feisty attitude. They complement each other in many aspects of their lives, but mostly in their shared goal of having a loving family, a dream they didn’t see fulfilled when they were children.

Archie stands next to Veronica without saying a word until she turns to him and lets out a laugh. “What?”

“Can you actually eat food?” he whispers, afraid to even ask the question. He doesn’t want to expose her. But he actually seems to worry more about it than she does.

“Yes. Not that I get anything from it, but it’s more like a feeling than anything else.” She looks into his eyes and tries to reassure him, yet he’s not convinced he’d ever be a hundred percent sure she’s not in danger. He knows so little about her world, that he sees peril at every corner.

“Excuse me?” Veronica finally spots the waitress behind the counter, and Archie can feel the air shifting around them. He can sense it as Veronica uses coercion over the waitress. “I need my burger raw.”

Archie shoots her a look while the waitress nods dumbly, not even uttering a reply as she goes into the kitchen.

“Mind explaining that?”

“Right,” Veronica drawls. “I can eat food but not cooked blood, unless you want me reenacting the Exorcist before your friends.”

He rolls his eyes and clenches his teeth in a way that makes his neck tense. He’s not upset at her but at himself. For weeks he hasn’t asked the right questions about her life, he hasn’t learned the details of how she has managed to survive.

“She’s not hurt and she won’t remember anything.” Veronica’s apologies aren’t what he was waiting for.

“I know so little about you.”

“And yet, you know more than most,” Veronica leans against him and perches her chin on his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.” She presses her lips to his cheek. “Come on.” She takes his hand and leads him back to the booth.

Unsurprisingly, Veronica is great with his friends. She asks Munroe about how he befriended Archie, and she jokingly tells him she could take him – they laugh, but Archie’s not sure this is actually a lie.

She listens attentively as Munroe tells him the story about how he met Toni while she was working on a photography project for one of her classes.

“I was actually seeing this girl.” Toni snorts a laugh when Munroe scoffs. “She was very indecisive, so I gave this fool a chance and well, I didn’t mean to, but he reminded me why I like boys too.”

Veronica and Archie join her in her laughter, while Munroe teases her.

Archie watched the story develop first hand, back when he himself was full of dreams about becoming an artist. They were the same people, but life had been hard and their big dreams downsized. Munroe wanted to go to school to become a physical therapist, but money problems forced him to get into work as soon as he was able to support his brother and grandma – now he’s in the process to become part of the FDNY. Toni works freelance, so the pregnancy hasn’t been easy on them financially. She stopped working a month ago and the jobs were scarce. They managed to save some money, but things will be hard, which is why Archie is happy he can help them if they need him to.

“I couldn’t believe this kid came from Riverdale and still trusted people,” Munroe comments after sharing the anecdote when Archie almost loses a lot of money on some fake deal to record a demo.

“Riverdale?” Veronica frowns and looks at Archie.

He has shared about his life. Little bits of his story, including where he was raised, but something seems odd when she hears it this time. Might be the fact they aren’t making out or half-naked.

“You didn’t know?” Munroe seems confused too, but Veronica shakes her head.

“No. I know where Archie grew up, it’s just I remembered something about it.”

Toni arches an eyebrow. “The only thing famous about that town is how creepy they are, and maple syrup.”

Veronica chuckles. “I like pancakes,” she quips, before leaning into Archie’s side.

  
  


The night is quite different from what she expected. Though, she’s not sure what she was expecting from Archie or his friends. They are just as welcoming as he is, and it makes her long for a life she’ll never know. Their lives might be hard, and she knows she’s romanticizing the idea of mortality, but wouldn’t it be nice to have uncertainties? It’s a gamble each day and do-overs aren’t frequent. They marvel at small things, on sunsets, and the miracle of life. They fall in love, some even decide to spend their lifetime together.

Veronica glances at Archie as they drive back to the manor. Tonight they celebrated a new life, with sparkling wine and apple juice, and yet all she can think about is how losing him is inevitable. How much it already hurts, even if he’s next to her. She can’t bear the thought of watching him grow old while she stays the same.

She won’t drink his blood but she’ll steal his life the same.

The Mustang goes around the manor much like the first night they snuck in. He’s getting better at this, and they are quick to move in the dark. The air smells like the ocean – a storm is coming – the sky is covered by dark clouds.

His shadow dashes to the back of the manor, to the stairs that led to the servant quarters, but Veronica holds his hand firmly and stops him. Archie might not see her, maybe just an outline of herself in the dark, but she can see him. His wide eyes, the blown-up pupils. She can hear his heartbeat and his breathing.

One last selfish act before the thought of him consumes her completely. One last time before she lets go. But he doesn’t know and won’t realize it until it’s too late.

She tugs his hand and starts navigating them through the labyrinth that is her lair. The north-west wing of the manor is all hers. During the stormy nights she can listen to the waves crashing against the shore, but tonight she doesn’t want that.

Pushing the doors of her room open, she lets Archie in. Any other time she wouldn’t bother turning the lights on, but she does it for Archie.

He stays rooted to the spot, taking in the lavish decor and looking smaller than he ever should. The heavy velvet curtains are half-open. The high ceilings feel like they could crack open and uncover them, but Veronica knows they’ve hidden her for too long to fail now.

If she has ever felt like a fairy tale princess, trapped in the tower, it’s here. Surrounded by royal blue walls and gilded patterns, admiring the exquisite craftsmanship of the furniture, the ostentatious details that seemed trapped in time with her. A beautiful cage, but a cage nonetheless.

“ _ Wow _ ,” Archie breathes out and she knows he’s trying not to be rude. It’s too much, but her father has always wanted the best for him and his family. Sometimes she just wonders if it’s for her or for himself.

“My father grew up in Mexico.” She shrugs her jacket off and takes a few steps towards the window. “He was the child of a cook in an  _ hacienda _ . The best he could hope for was to become a servant as well. But he wanted more. After becoming a butler, he followed his  _ patrón _ everywhere. He became the right hand, and traveled, learned languages, saw the world… and he still wanted more.” She looks through the window, her gaze on the horizon, imagining how different that life would’ve been.

She turns around to see a confused Archie.

“What happened?”

“He made a deal with a new  _ patrón _ , and then he took everything he wanted to create his world, his castle, his empire.” She heaves a sigh. After almost two hundred years, Hiram has made sure his legacy won’t be forgotten, yet he has left behind no one who could surpass him. “I’m a princess.” She opens her arms to show everything around her. “This is my punishment.”

“Ronnie–”

“I didn’t bring you here to talk about my past or my family’s,” she stalks her way to him and cradles his face between her hands. “I want freedom. I want to choose something in my life. And I choose you.”

She kisses him, soft and tentative at first, hoping this time he’ll finally cave in. His hands fall on the curve of her hips, right over the side zippers of her pants. When she’s able to lean back an inch, Archie follows her and attaches his mouth to hers, Veronica knows he’s already in.

Her hands glide down to his chest, pushing his jacket off and tugging at the hem of his shirt. She won’t be able to get them off, but he takes a hint and does as prompted when he needs to take a breath. His arms coil around her and pull her to him. He kisses her with a feverish hunger that makes her wonder what changed, why he won’t say no again. But she pushes the question to the back of her head because what she wants now is to feel.  _ Feel him. _ His lips against her skin. The strong heartbeat. And his soul in the way the pads of his fingers caress her and how he looks at her.

Using his height to his advantage, Archie takes the hem of her sweater and pulls it over her head. He breathes heavily when her hands undo his pants, while his unzip hers.

A bout of laughter leaves her mouth when his jeans easily drop with one push while her leather ones don’t budge an inch.

“Damn it,” Archie complains, his forehead pressed to her shoulder before he kisses it. “Couldn’t you wear a skirt?”

She toys with his hair, and whispers in his ear, “Isn’t more fun when it’s harder to get the prize?”

There’s something primal in the way he decides to take the initiative, how his big hands take her thighs and easily lift her off the floor and make her wrap her legs around his waist. She shudders as one hand covers her ass and the other moves up her back, deftly unclasping her bra. She shudders when his lips latch to the base of her neck.

“Take me to bed,” Veronica mewls, and she’d be embarrassed by the need in her voice, but why? Why when  _ this  _ is what she wants?

He gently lays her on the bed, and she leans back on her forearms, lifting a leg to place the heel of her boot on his shoulder.

“Do you mind?”

His smile is predatory and it makes something inside her stir as he complies, unzipping one boot and then the other as his fingers dig on her calves. Archie then leans forward, both hands on the waist of her leather pants.

“Lift your hips, babe.” His voice is a little deeper, his skin feels hotter, and his heart is beating faster.

Veronica bites her lip and does as told, watching him unpeel the pants off her.

Both of them in underwear, Veronica beckons him to join her in bed. He hovers above her, supporting his weight on his arms before leaning in to kiss her. But as the kisses deepen, his weight gradually falls upon her, a delicious pressure that reminds her he’s real yet unlike anyone she has met before.

His reverence to her body, how delicate his touch can be yet how strong he can hold her makes her feel more special than she ever did with all the wealth and privileges. She didn’t know she could feel this way, much less for what most vampires deem  _ a mere mortal _ , much less without the high of a feed.

She’d swear her heart races when they both cave in into what many have called unnatural, abhorrent, a sin. But how can that be? When their bodies are together, she feels life as close as it can be.

  
  


After she managed to sneak Archie out of her room, untangle him from her and the silk sheets even if nothing had ever seen better in her bed, Veronica spent hours trying to come up with a plan not to do what she was planning. Finding a way out seemed impossible in her logic. It had to be done now before it was too late. But at the rate she was falling deep into her own emotions, she was far out of time.

The sharp sound of her heels was muted as soon as she entered her father’s side of the manor. The regal carpets cushioned her steps enough so they wouldn’t be audible. It didn’t mean she wanted to ambush her father.

Veronica knocked on his studio’s door once. Twice, when he didn’t reply. But she fears if she doesn’t do this now she won’t have the strength to do it later.

She may very well deal with her father’s disapproving frown for a day.

Before she can utter a word as she burst into his office, Veronica is shortly surprised and mildly disgusted at the sight of her father. He stands between the legs of a blonde woman on top of his desk who is gasping in ecstasy while he feeds off her. Hiram’s teeth are sunk deep into the skin, which explains why he didn’t pay attention to the door.

Veronica is not a fool. She knows that for years Smithers has kept a string of different women sneaking in and out of the manor to satisfy her father’s hunger. Hiram fondly calls them  _ midnight snacks _ , as if they were a menu to pick from. Of course, all of these women are willing participants in his cravings. What bothers Veronica is the hypocrisy of her father since Veronica is not allowed to bring her own  _ food _ into the manor.

“Father,” she calls sternly. “May I speak to you?”

Hiram harrumphs before lifting his gaze to her, only then letting go of his victim. Of course, the woman seems a little out of it at first, but that doesn’t stop her from glaring at Veronica over her shoulder as she slips her clothes back on.

“I certainly hope this is important, and not some whim of yours,” Hiram offers while taking a handkerchief to dab at the corner of his mouth, catching a drop of blood. He also hands his guest a silk scarf to hide the little marks he left behind.

“I’d rather wait for your…  _ friend _ to depart before we discuss what I’ve come to say.” Veronica folds her arms and keeps her eyes on the smirk Hiram sports. From the corner of her eye, she can see the woman scurrying away through a door in the back of Hiram’s office – a little secret passage for his indiscretions to hide.

Once the small door clicks shut, Hiram unrolls the sleeves of his royal purple shirt. He’s unbothered as he moves from behind his desk to the front.

“You can speak freely now,  _ mija _ .”

Veronica can’t help the moment she wrinkles her nose. The smell of blood still hangs in the air, in his breath. But she didn’t come here to list the reasons she’s unhappy or the things she wants to feel less like a prisoner and more like his daughter.

“I need you to fire Archibald.” The words were well-rehearsed in her mind, so it’s not hard to tell them while walking closer to Hiram, to stand before him and behind one of the armchairs that face the fireplace. If she places a hand on the back of the armchair, it’s just to hold herself together while her fingers dig into the padding trying to ease the anxiety.

Unlike what she expected, Hiram chuckles, seemingly amused with her demand.

“You  _ want _ me to fire the boy.” He hums, nodding as he thinks about something. “Why? I’ve seen he has followed the rules, he’s always on time, presentable, he’s been reliable. Or have you seen something I haven’t?” There’s a tinge of something she cannot quite pinpoint in that last question.

“I don’t like being watched by the babysitter you hired for me,” she tries to spit out as much venom as she can muster, but her fingers holding the backrest of the armchair are as tight as they can be before they break the furniture.

“And I should care about that?” Hiram takes a step forward.

Veronica won’t give him the satisfaction of looking afraid of him. “Maybe he likes watching me too much. Shouldn’t you avoid any kind of scandal? If he happened to know about the truth–”

She doesn’t get to finish the sentence, because Hiram moves quickly enough so she doesn’t have time to react. His left hand takes her face and holds it tightly so she can’t look away anywhere else but at him. She tries to pull away but that only tightens his grip.

“You seem to think I care about a disposable boy,  _ mija _ .” His smile is terrifying. “You thought this was a test for him, didn’t you? You believe to know everything, my very clever yet foolish daughter.” When she tries to lift her hand to push him off her, he grabs them with his free hand, leaving her vulnerable. “After sixty years you thought I had forgotten of your mother’s betrayal? You are her spitting image. Each time I see you, I remember what she did, what she made me do.” This time his smile drops and the wrath finally shows on his face. “This is a test for you. And so far, you’re failing,  _ palomita _ .”

“You–”

“I don’t care about Archie. I could snap his neck before his next breathing. But I want to know how much you could care about him.” Hiram lets her go, making her stumble against the armchair. “Tell me, what’s your next move?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song at the beginning is War of Hearts by Ruelle
> 
> Another two songs I kept in mind for this chapter were:
> 
> Wicked Game by Ursine Vulpine, Annaca (cover)  
Paint it, Black by Ciara (cover)


	4. A Long Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Again...
> 
> It seems it takes me forever to update but I usually take my time with this fic and I hope you appreciate it
> 
> Thanks to [@monicaposh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monicaposh/pseuds/monicaposh) for helping me discuss the fic and encouraging me to keep writing. <3

_ How can I say this without breaking? _

_ How can I say this without taking over? _

_ How can I put it down into words? _

_ When it's almost too much for my soul alone _

He sits by the window gently strumming his guitar while the darkness of night slowly wanes to give room for the light of day. The silver light makes him look like an apparition; like he doesn’t belong and she’s imagining their story and the notes he plucks from his guitar.

Veronica keeps looking at him from the bed, in those unbuttoned dark slacks and his messy hair. 

She should’ve been gone at least an hour ago, but ever since her father finally confessed his plans, she’s been trying to figure out what she should do, how she should move when everything seems to be a risk. It seemed so easy to get her father to get rid of him, to build that wall between them and keep Archie safe, away from them. Now she knows her attempts might be futile. Whatever she says about Archie, whatever she does, it’ll give her father the excuse to harm him just to hurt them and keep her under his control.

“What’s going through your mind?” Archie murmurs, still playing and not looking at her.

Him. He’s constantly on her mind and in her heart because the chance of him being harmed is making her crazy. This is her fault. She should’ve known better.

“You,” she replies vaguely as she sits up in bed. She hasn’t bothered to get dressed again, so when he senses her moving he looks in her direction, his eyes roaming along the lines of her body but ending on her face, holding her gaze. “You said once you wanted to become an artist. A musician.”

A humorless laugh escapes his lips. “Thought I had what it takes, but –” he trails off and instead heaves a low sigh, stopping his playing. “I dreamt too big, shot too high, and failed.”

_ Doesn’t it happen for everyone?  _ Veronica wonders, thinking how she thought she could have it all without collateral damage. The possibility of having Archie and then letting him go as if nothing had changed seemed ridiculous now. How could she have been such a fool?

“Don’t you want to try again?” Veronica swallows the knot forming in her throat as she slips her dress back on, but as she tries to zip it up, she feels Archie standing behind her and doing it for her. Her arms fall at her sides, and there’s a pause that bothers her.

“I don’t know if I should. Success doesn’t seem to be my thing.” Archie’s nose bumps against her cheek when he presses a soft kiss to the hinge of her jaw. His hands hold her by the waist gently but firmly.

Each time gets harder to let go for the both of them, and this time Veronica thinks it’s too late. There’s no way he’ll leave her willingly. She’s let him into her world and worse than that, she allowed him to get to know her as no one else has done.

“You might have luck now,” she tries, hoping to plant a seed of curiosity. Maybe if he goes and finds fame in music or even just small success, he’ll forget about her and the darkness that surrounds her life — he’ll be out of danger.

“With you by my side,” Archie quips, smiling against her neck as he playfully kisses her skin.

But she’s not in the mood to stay in their bubble, playing the parts of carefree lovers in an imaginary world they’ve created but doesn’t exist. They’ll never find peace here. Her father might have taken revenge against her mother, but that doesn’t mean it was enough. And the price to pay is too high, too precious.

“I’m a bad omen,” she mutters surly, pushing his hands off her. “You should be aware of it.”

He doesn’t move when she walks past him to find her shoes. Archie stays rooted in place, and his frown grows deeper the longer she ignores him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Us.” She stops and motions with her hands all around her, opening her arms. But then she points at him and then at herself as if that was enough proof. “ _ This _ .”

“I thought you were having fun.”

Veronica snorts a sad laugh and shakes her head. “Well, no. Not anymore,  _ Archiekins _ .” She doesn’t mean to mock him but she can see him backing away, turning around like he cannot believe her poison is directed at him.

“Have you grown tired of me? Has the newness of this toy worn off?” He purses his lips, tensing his jaw while he waits for a reply.

This is her best chance for a clean break. Everything could end with the right words – or the wrong ones to be precise. She could be cruel and discard him, making him feel like nothing and leave as quietly as she found him in the middle of the night. And yet, she cannot make herself say the words. Watching his distress makes her wonder what he’d be capable of, if he would give up easily.

“Do you want me to say yes? Do you want an easy way out?” It’s hard to recognize her own voice when it becomes so small, when the vulnerability seems so foreign she’s not sure she’s speaking out loud.

“What are you talking about?” Archie stops pacing to look at her. “You think I’d leave. Now.  _ You _ . I’m risking everything I have for you. If your father found out, I’d end up on the streets. I have nothing but you.” Archie takes long strides to stand before her but doesn’t dare touch her, he only reaches up for a lock of her hair while his gaze searches hers.

Avoiding him is not the best approach, but it’s been decades since she felt this fragile. When her mother–

“He knows.” She looks at him so he’s aware of what she means. “My father knows about us. And it’s why you need to leave.”

“He–” Archie stutters that one syllable before his wide eyes can really focus on her before he can process reality. “How? We’ve been careful. I’ve stayed away as much as I can. I haven’t done anything to give us away.”

The guilt is not him to bear alone. It’s not his at all.

Veronica cradles his face in her hands and angles it so their foreheads touch.

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. It’s  _ his _ . He wants to teach me a lesson, the lesson my mother refused to learn.”

His hands curl around her wrists and it’d hurt if it wasn’t because it feels like he’s refusing to let her go. He’ll refuse, stubbornly so. She knows. She’s known since the moment he drove her that first night. Archie’s not like the ones before.

“Why would he do that to his own daughter? What kind of father would hurt his own child?”

Veronica takes a deep sigh.

A vampire’s life is eternal. They watch many come and go, but only a few stay, and as much as her father wanted to have a kingdom, without subjects there wasn’t much for him to rule over. Hiram was scared of ending up alone, which might’ve been the only fear he couldn’t conquer. He barely tolerated their kind, and trusted no one. She was the only one left who could carry on, his link to the outside world, the handler of dirty businesses while he manipulated and corrupted the elites. More than a daughter, she was a business partner.

“My mother betrayed him, so he made her pay for her sins. And he says I’m just like her. He’s making sure I don’t stray from his plans,” Veronica says as she steps back from Archie, watching him so vulnerable on the outside, yet she feels the strength of life in an almost frightening way. “For me to be born, magic had to be used. Life can’t be created from the undead.” Veronica feels a pang in her chest at the memory of Hermione. “My mother made a deal with him while she was human. She’d have me, raise me, and when I became of age for turning, she’d be turned with me.”

“Was that unusual?”

Veronica scoffs. “Vampires don’t tend to see humans as worthy, much less equals. Most women were…  _ disposed of _ . But my father wanted her, a queen for a king.” Hermione used to tell the story of how she grew up, free and carefree until bad luck fell upon her family. Not much to do for a woman at the time but to find a husband to keep her safe.  _ I chose wrong,  _ princesita. She married bad luck instead.

“But you’re here. You were born.”

The first rays of sunshine start peeking through the window, piercing the floor like needles, like claws trying to catch the monsters and take them away..

Veronica smiles softly. “She ran away with me. I was twelve and my father was busy conducting business while the world was set on fire. The men were busy while the women tried to keep the world moving, mending the little things so there was something to go back to once the war was over.” She remembers those years, hiding in a small town where Hermione found a safe place in the home of the woman who had made the spell for her to be born, Anne. A witch who was in hiding as well, with two children and a baby while her own husband was fighting the war. 

It was the happiest she remembers being. 

“She wanted out of the deal, but my father wouldn’t have it. He told her she could leave if she left me with him and promised to never come back.” 

“And she escaped with you instead.”

Veronica nods quietly. There was something mesmerizing in the eyes of her mother, a window to another life.

“We hid in Riverdale. That’s why your town sounded familiar.” Veronica sees the surprise in Archie’s eyes but she brushes off. That’s not the important part of the story. “We were there for two years, until my father found us despite our best efforts. We had to leave before he tore the town apart.”

“But if he got you back, then why did he want revenge? He got what he wanted. You’ve been by his side all these years.”

She had always wondered what it was like for people not to know the darkness she had grown into. The glimpse of those two years with her mother had been the brightest of her life, but two years in her life seemed like a minute. The blink of an eye. A bittersweet memory where she had a life filled with life, with laughter and the love of a mother.

“That doesn’t mean I’ve earned his trust. All my life he has set tests for me to pass, to prove myself to him. My loyalty.” She looks away, at the glowing sunshine on the floor, growing and covering more corners and her eyes fill with tears. “Yet, he shattered my trust in him.”

Archie takes a tentative step closer, and she doesn’t move away from him but he doesn’t dare to touch her either.

“He kept us as prisoners here until my turning age. He fulfilled his part of the deal because it was important for him to be true to his word, but after my mother was turned he…” Veronica trails off and the sound of birds chirping outside fills the silence with some grisly cheerful music. “He threw her out one morning. He told her to leave now that she was of no use.” The tears roll down her cheeks. “Smithers had to hold me while I watched my mother burn under the morning sun. I was standing behind velvet curtains.”

“Ronnie,” Archie breathes softly in her ear when his arms wrap her up, holding her while she lets herself be vulnerable for the first time since then. He keeps her together when she feels like being pulled apart.

“He takes everything from me, and now he’ll take you.” Her whisper goes past his ear, but his hold tightens on her while the sunlight finally reaches his feet.

Her fingers dig on his shoulder, almost clawing at him to keep him closer, as close as he can physically be.

“You need to leave.” She pushes away from him, dressing up in a hurry quickly dancing in the shadows left, where she belongs.

“I won’t leave you here.” Archie’s frown is deep, the scars of his forehead almost menacing. He tries to grasp her arm as she moves, but she’s faster. “I won’t leave you here alone.” His hand reaches for her dress instead, but he doesn’t pull her in. He merely stops her enough so she listens.

“Archie, please.” Veronica refuses to look at him, tugging the fabric off his hands so she can escape. Scurry away through dark halls and hide behind heavy curtains once more. Hear the chirping of birds while in darkness.

“Then come with me.” His tone is soft and he lets go of her dress. This is her decision, and he knows that very well. 

Veronica turns around to watch him, still half-naked, barefoot, and glowing like an angel with the sunlight coming from behind as the shape of him casts a shadow over her.

“I love you, come with me,” he says once more.

She feels small for the first time in decades. Scared and tiny, but also foolishly hopeful. Yet, all she wants is to feel furious. Who gave him the right to make her feel that light, that warmth that bathes her on the nights she spends with him. A sweet balm for a soul she’s not supposed to hold so fiercely to.

A hot tear draws a line down her cheek.

“Didn’t you hear anything I said? He’ll find us! And he’ll hurt you.” Clenching her teeth, she uses her hands to push him away into the sunlight. “And I won’t live with myself knowing I’m to blame. I can’t be the reason. I’m not enough for you to gamble everything.”

“You’re more.” His amber eyes shine with watery despair, his lips pressed in a tight line. “Tell me it won’t tear you apart. Tell me you don’t love me.”

But she can’t. She can’t tell him lies without revealing the truth, so she stays quiet and bites hard on her lip to stop the truth from pouring out before she leaves, rushing back into darkness.

  
  
  


Since Veronica’s been missing the last couple of nights, and his mind has been busy trying to place all the pieces of the puzzle together, Archie doesn’t find it hard to leave the manor in the middle of the night when Munroe calls to tell him Toni was going to have the baby then.

Archie wishes he could be completely in the moment, he could be as happy for Munroe and Toni as he should. But there’s the hint of jealousy in the back of his heart. Why can’t things be simple for him?

He takes a fortifying breath as he walks down the halls of the hospital and spots Munroe with a big smile, almost shaking out of excitement and happiness.

“Bro, she’s– she was just taken in.” Munroe shifts his waits from one foot to the other, which makes Archie chuckle. “I have to go back. And–  _ wow! _ Will you wait? I mean I don’t know how long it’ll take, but you’re family.”

“Mr. Moore?” a nurse calls as she steps out of a room.

Archie smiles, but he knows it’s not as joyful as it should. Fortunately, Munroe is too busy to pick up on those things tonight.

“Of course. I have no better place to be.” He smacks his friend on the shoulder a couple of times and laughs when Munroe grins almost childishly. “I have to meet my godchild!” Archie shouts and Munroe points at him as a promise before going into the room the nurse came from, confirming what they asked of him a few months before.

Once Munroe is out of sight, Archie blows a breath and runs a hand through his hair.

Looking up and down the empty corridor, Archie sees just a couple of people ambling around, mostly medical personnel. But to his right there’s a vending machine, so he reaches for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans and takes a bill.

He’s not hungry but needs to keep himself busy in some way before his mind turns him  _ fucking _ mad. The cogs have been running nonstop since the morning Veronica left his room with tear-streaked cheeks. His heart cracked when she couldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but he blames it on fear. She never said no, even if that’s not a yes.

A bag of peanut M&M’s falls with a thud, and Archie takes it, opening it before he plops down on one of the plastic chairs, popping a green one into his mouth.

He knows things will never be simple again. Even if he followed Veronica’s advice, even if he left her behind, he’ll never be the same guy he used to be. Forgetting is not an option, and the miserable option is living without her and wondering about her day after day.

The candied covered chocolate cracks under the pressure of his teeth.

_ Sometimes you’re willing to give up dreams for things you didn’t know you needed, _ said Betty once, when she decided to marry Reggie instead of taking the opportunity to be a reporter in New York like she had always wanted. But she was also the happiest she had ever been. Gone had been the ridiculous pressure her parents had put her under. Reggie’s spontaneity kept her smiling, made her laugh and had helped her live her life like never before.

But what was he giving up now?

Archie took his phone and his finger searched for Betty’s number. It was nine-thirty-four PM, and he hesitated before just pressing on the number.

It rang four times. Before he could hang up, the call was accepted.

“Betty, hi. I thought–”

“She’s with Nate. He was having trouble falling asleep,” Reggie’s voice answers instead, an even voice that doesn’t give away anything.

“ _ Oh _ . I’m sorry, Reg, I can call back later.” Archie winces before adding, “No, actually, just– it doesn’t matter. I’ll call another day.”

“I thought you were doing fine. But if it’s money you need–”

Archie’s blood boils, but also his cheeks with the shame he feels.

He knows Reggie does well with the car dealership. It’s not like that’s news for him. The Mantles had money and Reggie was known to throw parties every other weekend, for inviting girls on ski trips and getting the best car for his sixteenth birthday gift. It hits differently when Archie realizes that the money Betty lent her probably came from her husband.

“I don’t.”

He’d like to tell Reggie that he wants to pay back what Betty gave him, but she refuses to accept it. She told him to save it for a rainy day, that she knew he’d do the same for her. Yes. For her. For Nate.

“So you’re calling my wife tonight because of what?” Now Reggie’s voice is laced with anger. He struggles to keep it under control because he’s usually one to show his emotions. He’s probably doing it not to upset Betty and Nate.

“She’s my friend.”

“I know, Andrews. And it was hard for me to come to terms with it, but I’m aware of it. Now  _ you _ will have to understand that because of that, I worry about what’s going on with you. You’re the closest thing to family she thinks she has.” Reggie lets out a breath as if he has finally let go of something he had kept in for long. “I don’t want you to upset her, so if it’s trouble you have, you can tell me.”

Archie pauses, thinking this is why he didn’t oppose Betty saying yes to Reggie. As much as his opinion about Reggie wasn’t the best, he proved he was willing to keep her safe, to keep his family safe, and to love them.

During Reggie’s bachelor party, Archie remembers the former Bulldogs’ captain getting drunk off his ass, having to carry him back home as he babbled, professing his love for Betty and claiming he’d give his whole life away for her – he had. Reggie had proved himself time and time against before Betty said yes. And now he was the one willing to deal with Archie’s shit if it meant keeping Betty safe.

Archie smiles, so his voice gets lighter, disguising his concerns. “My friends are welcoming their first child, so I just wanted to know how you guys were doing. Nothing to worry about, Reg.”

There’s a silence that follows that worries Archie for a second. They used to be friends, they knew themselves well enough to read each other on the field when they played together.

“We’re good. The little man is doing great, and Coop is finally about to say yes to some vacations away from town.”

Archie chuckles. Sounds like Betty to refuse to have days off, and Reggie to want to take her to some sunny beach somewhere.

“That’s nice.” Archie sighs, running a hand through his hair again. “Tell Betty I’ll call her soon. Take care.”

“Andrews–”

“I’m okay.” Archie knows he’s lying. “I’m okay, Reg.” But maybe repeating it enough times will get him to believe it too.

“If you say so.” Reggie promises to tell Betty, and the call disconnects, leaving Archie feeling strangely aware of what he has to do.

  
  
  


Leona Moore doesn’t leave her parents waiting for long. She has such power, Archie can hear her cries from outside the room. She’s a tiny little thing who’ll have the world at her feet, no doubt. Munroe is certainly wrapped around that tiny finger.

Toni looks exhausted but so happy with the baby in her arms. They are a beautiful family, and Archie wishes them all the happiness in the world.

He holds the baby in his arms for a couple of minutes despite refusing at first, because Munroe insists. It’s some sort of confirmation of his role as godfather, sealing his promise to keep her safe, to be there if she ever needs him.

Life seems even more fragile in the shape of a baby, but also brighter and hopeful.

His phone buzzes in the pocket of his leather jacket twice with incoming messages. At first, he guesses it’s Betty to let him know Reggie told her about his call. He won’t call this late again, and Betty has always been an early bird, so she won’t wait for an answer either.

Archie only stays a few more minutes, deciding to go soon enough to let the family rest – and also because the nurses have been trying to kick him out for a while now.

“Take care of them,” Archie murmurs to Toni, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she watches Munroe cradling Leona in his arms. “We both know he might be the big guy, but you’re the strong one.”

“Damn right, I am,” Toni replies, but it loses some punch when she yawns.

Archie chuckles. “Take it easy, T. Get some sleep.”

“Bye, Red. Don’t be a stranger.” Toni holds his gaze and he only smiles before leaving.

Once in the elevator, Archie finally checks his phone. Smithers sent him a message to let him know Veronica left the manor on her own, and he was concerned about making her way back in a timely fashion.

Of course, she had waited until Archie was gone to leave.

Archie hurries to the Mustang to drive across the city and see if he could not only take Veronica back to the manor but to confront her. She might’ve thought she could avoid him forever, but she was wrong. He wouldn’t give up so easily.

New York at night is filled with light but also darkness. It is true that it never stopped – and it is why it might’ve been the perfect city for vampires. They never really need to hide. No one could question their schedules.

By the front door of  _ La Bonne Nuit _ stand the doormen who make sure only the right people made it inside. After all the times he has been here, they only greet Archie and let him in without any fuss.

The dancing bodies seem hypnotized. The heat, the beat of the music, and the atmosphere don’t bother him as much as in the beginning. It has become easier to traverse the sea of people with practice – to reach the stairs to the VIP area without bumping into anyone has taken a lot of practice.

Kevin stands behind the guy guarding the entry and shakes his head before Archie can say a word.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” he says sternly, even if he doesn’t look like he agrees with what he is doing.

“Tough luck, I’m her ride back home.” Archie tries to climb the first step, but the guard gets in the way. The glare he shoots at the guy makes him step away.

He doesn’t want to cause a scene, but if it is what it takes to get Veronica to talk to him, Archie is willing to do it.

“Bold of you to call Lodge Manor home,” Kevin comments. “Not even V calls it home.”

But it’s where she is, it’s where he wants to come back, even if he doesn’t see her. He can feel her, and that’s enough for him. But does the same apply to her?

“I need to see her.”

“Archie–” Kevin tries again, laying a gentle hand on Archie’s shoulder.

“You let me in or I’ll make my way through.” He’s never been a guy who threatens people for anything, but he’s never been in this situation before. And he’s tired of losing everything that made his life worth living, everything that made him want to take a next breath and made him feel like he belonged somewhere.

Kevin seems to weigh the options before stepping aside.

“I haven’t seen you,” he mutters, looking towards the dancefloor. “I have no idea how you got here.”

It seems right because if Veronica finds out, her wrath won’t be contained and no one will be spared.

He stands at the top of the stairs when Cheryl walks past him, holding two tall drinks, swaying her hips as the long red dress flows behind her. Without looking at him, she says, “The club closes in forty minutes. I’d advise you to get a drink.” She smiles at him, white teeth and red lips in a saccharine sweet way that almost makes him shudder. “But courage is one thing we don’t sell.”

She twirls away and goes back into a velvet booth with a group of people that doesn’t include Veronica.

He scans the place until he spots one of the booths with its curtain closed, one of the ones they keep for feeding in private. Even if Cheryl and Veronica don’t mind people watching, there are others who won’t let themselves be seen, or their prey won’t allow it.

“What are you doing here?” Veronica’s voice drips with anger as she pushes the curtain open to face him. “Why haven’t you quit? Why haven’t you left?”

“I love you.”

“Would you stop saying that!” Veronica’s voice breaks, because even if she wishes to show anger, it’s not what she feels. She is scared and lost just like he is, but this is not an easy emotion to accept for someone so used to being in control of any and every situation.

“Why?” Archie doesn’t move away from her. He’s not afraid of her. “You want me to lie? Would it be easier for you?” He shakes his head, wetting his lips and frowning. “I can’t leave you, and I won’t. So you either come with me and be happy, or we both stay and be miserable.”

“You’re a stupid man.” She pokes at his chest with her finger repeatedly as she says, “You have to stop thinking with your heart if you want to keep it beating!”

“What do you care what I do with my heart if you don’t want it?” He spits through gritted teeth, getting face to face but still not touching her.

Her eyes turn watery under the unnatural lights of the club.

“Because I love you, idiot. Because I’d take every other heart for yours to keep beating.” She blinks letting the tears fall. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that good enough?”

“Come with me. Just leave with me, Ronnie. We’ll find a way.” If he has to resort to begging, he’ll do it. If it’s what it takes.

Archie cradles her face with his hands, feeling her cold tears against his skin.

“You think I don’t want to?”

“Just say yes. Please.”

Her face contorts in pain as she leans against his touch. “He won’t let me. My father will take you away from me, like everything else.”

“I’ll never leave you.  _ Never _ .” He knows what he’s about to ask, and it’s the only solution he could think of. But she also reads it on his expression.

“Archie, no.” She takes his hands off her face. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. You don’t know what it takes.”

“Forever doesn’t seem as scary if I’m by your side.” He swallows hard on that imaginary shot of courage. “Just turn me.”

“No.  _ No _ ! I want you to live a life and be happy, and not drag you into this. Live for me, for the life I won’t have.” Her dark eyes seem darker, more frightened than before to see him willing to sacrifice his life for her.

“What life would be without you?”

“Dreams only come for those who sleep at night. The undead life is barren, lonely, hard… Love is for living.”

“You cannot tell me that after telling me you love me. You cannot believe in these rules when I know you’re meant to challenge them.” He leans forward and kisses her cheek softly, before whispering once again. “Come with me, even if you don’t turn me. Let me love you.”

Veronica’s will wavers. Her eyes dance across his face, and he knows she’ll say no again, so he kisses her. Slowly but with as much passion as he can, taking her in his arms. If this is their last kiss, then he better have her lips memorized for one last time.

Her hands tug at his jacket, sneaking under it to pull him closer, almost wishing they could fuse together and live in this moment forever.

“If you leave, I promise I’ll find a way to you,” Veronica mutters against his bruised lips, less than a breath away from his mouth. “I’ll find you when I make sure he can’t hurt us anymore.”

“Veronica,” he pulls back to look at her eyes, to see how cold they turn.

“Every empire crumbles at some point. Kings don’t live forever.” She takes a sharp breath. “He’s waiting for my betrayal anyway, so I’ll only give him what he wants. I’ll spare him. It’s the only way to stop him.”

Killing Hiram. That’s her plan, but the aftermath of such a battle would be too much to handle. Nothing ensures success, even for her who knows every trick. No one could have a better shot at it than her, but how? Archie knows that as much as she loathes what her father has done, she still keeps a thread of something akin to love for him – but at this point, he doesn’t know if it’s love, loyalty, or fear.

“If you don’t return to me, I’ll come back for you.” Archie kisses her forehead, hugging her, comforting for the grief she’s already feeling. Mourning someone who’s not dead might be the worst feeling. “Just promise me you–”

She laughs at him behind her sadness. “How many times do you think I can die?”

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“Then, let’s promise we won’t die. Promise me that,” Veronica takes his hand in hers. “Leave. Now.”

“Fine, if you ask me… if you promise me–”

“I love you, Archie. Even when I shouldn’t. Even when I couldn’t.”

  
  
  


The crowd starts dwindling, people leaving as the closing hours approach. Even the vampires start making their way out, some with company and others as lonely as they came. And meanwhile, Archie and Veronica just enjoy one last moment of holding each other before they have to go separate ways for an unknown amount of time. Hopefully not forever.

The night starts to end when morning threatens to come and Cheryl throws some insults at them that make Veronica laugh. Apparently, tough love has a whole new meaning with the redheaded woman.

She kisses him one last time as they stand by the Mustang, with him leaning against the car and Veronica standing between his legs. One more promise, so the distance won’t drive them mad with pain.

Her fingers trace his jaw, the scar on his forehead, and she keeps the other hand over his heart.

“I’ll always be with you,” Veronica promises in a hushed tone.

“Is that so,  _ mija _ ?” a deep voice interrupts.

Hiram stands just a few feet away, dressed in a dark suit, and smirking at them as if he had finally found enough proof for him to win and prove himself right.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Always is such a strong word,” the man quips, mocking them, and takes two steps closer. Those two steps feel like a threat for Veronica, who turns around in an attempt to cover Archie, even if she’s too small to hide him behind her.

“What are you doing here?” Veronica’s voice wavers, and her hands tighten her grip on one of Archie’s hands.

Hiram chuckles. “Visiting my daughter and seeing her success.” He takes a deep breath and looks at her with menacing intensity. “Hoping she doesn’t forget what she has here, making sure she doesn’t stray from her path. Being a father and teaching my child the importance of family.”

“Family?” Veronica scoffs. “Seems you believe in family when it benefits you. Or did you care about me or exposing us when you killed your last chauffeur?”

Hiram’s face twists as if he had tasted something bitter. “I did it to protect us. He was an undercover reporter.”

“You did it to protect yourself. That’s all you do, so leave me alone. Just–  _ leave _ .” Veronica’s usually strong demeanor turns soft with the fear of being caught, of not being capable of buying enough time for Archie to run away. And as she thinks about him, she feels his touch on her waist, to remind her he’s there for her and giving her strength.

“Your fondness for human life is something disappointing, but you’re just like your mother. These fragile creatures, insignificant and despicable, thinking they have power when they don’t know what it truly means.” Hiram nods his head as if he were agreeing with himself, swiveling around to leave but pausing before walking away. “It’s my duty as a father to teach you. And I’ll repeat this lesson as many times as I have to,  _ mija _ . Because I’m nothing but a doting father.”

It’s only then that Veronica hears the crack that breaks the night silence, and only a blink of an eye later the grip holding her, Archie’s touch, loosens on her when he falls with a thud against the side of the Mustang.

Her head whips around and she notices Andre standing at the opposite side of the car, still holding the gun in his gloved hand. He doesn’t say a word even if it seems like wants to try. His head hangs down and doesn’t look at her before walking away to the Rolls Royce.

But she cannot think about that when Archie’s legs give out and he falls onto the sidewalk, holding his chest with one hand as he gasps for air, as blood seeps through his fingers drenching his shirt with his life.

“No,” Veronica breathes in, her eyes filling with tears as she watches the desperation in Archie’s eyes.

He tries to speak but he can’t form a word.

She can’t see anything but Archie with her blurry sight, as her tears run down her cheeks. Her legs can barely hold her as she kneels before him, to caress his face to try to put pressure on his chest and stop the bleeding.

“Ronnie,” Archie whispers when she’s close enough.

“Don’t leave me, not like this.” Veronica remembers the pain of losing her mother, the pain of losing love in her life once again. “You have to live. I love you.”

Archie seems to smile, but he’s losing strength too fast.

When she feels a hand on her shoulder, she gets startled and whips her head around thinking Hiram will be there for the last and final strike, but it’s Cheryl the one standing there in her floor-length coat.

“You know there’s one way to save him, to keep him with you.” Cheryl’s gaze is unusually soft on her because this is who she truly is under the tough exterior. She’s a great ally or a mortal enemy.

“Cher–”

“Let’s take him inside the club, and you can… turn him,” Cheryl says quietly, not even pausing to let her think about what they are doing.

Not so long ago Archie asked Veronica if she’d bite him, and she told him she’d do it if it was absolutely necessary but she never thought that moment would come. Now he’s dying in her arms, for loving her too much and for being loved by her. The only way to save him is to kill him, to finish the job her father started before the last person she loves leaves her.

Kevin and Cheryl lay Archie in one leather booth and Veronica doesn’t know what to do.

Is it her right to turn him without his permission? He never agreed to this.

“You don’t have time to think about this, Veronica.” Cheryl looks at her after taking Archie’s pulse. “He’ll be gone soon.”

She’ll be selfish because she was willing to lose him if he could be happy away from her, but now she just wants him back.

His heartbeat keeps weakening as she leans forward. Cradling Archie’s head, Veronica angles it to have better access to his neck. She shuts her eyes and breathes him in one last time while he’s alive before sinking her fangs into his neck.

There’s a burst of sweetness in her tongue, warm blood flooding her mouth as his heart spikes into a frenetic rhythm before it starts slowing down. Slow until it’s nothing but a faint murmur, and she feels tears running down her cheeks because this is the music she’ll never hear again.

Veronica pulls away and watches his lifeless body before using her fangs to break the skin of her wrist as Cheryl opens Archie’s mouth, holding it open so Veronica’s blood can be drunk by him.

In silence, Kevin makes three drinks for them to have as they watch Archie, seemingly sleeping.The transformation is never easy. Archie will need hours until he can successfully change. His hunger for blood will be at its highest the first couple of days. His thirst to replenish the life he has lost will drive him violent even if he wishes not to. And she’ll be there to take care of him.

“You need to leave the city,” Cheryl offers, sipping her martini but refusing to look at anyone. “If you stay, your father will finish the job. You know how sloppy newborns are.”

Veronica scoffs a watery laugh. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

“Love is never how we want it,” Kevin comments. “But we’ll cover for you. Now we have to decide where you’ll be hiding.”

“Archie lived in Riverdale. His father’s house is there, abandoned, so I think we should go there.” Veronica swirls her drink but doesn’t drink from it. “As long as it looks like I’m hiding, mourning here in the city, everything should be fine. Everything–”

“Everything is fucked up,” Cheryl spits. “But what’s new?”

Veronica laughs but feels fresh tears running down her cheeks.

“We’ll get everything ready. Now try to relax, rest, you’ll need the strength for when he comes back,” Kevin places a hand on her shoulder, before standing up and kissing her cheek.

The days to come will be long, and the nights even longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song at the beginning is:   
_Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie_
> 
> So... what do you think about that ending?

**Author's Note:**

> The song at the beginning is Lorde's Yellow Flicker Beat


End file.
